Dreams of Blood
by DarkFledgling
Summary: Dreams of Blood starts during the summer after Order of the Phoenix when Harry begins to have disturbing dreams about a certain blonde Slytherin. Dreams of Blood features blood, snogging, angst, and violence.Please R and R!
1. Of Potions and Dreams

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this story and I'm not making a profit from this, so don't sue me. May contain vague references to Greek mythology.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
He was falling, gently on to soft satin sheets the color of fresh blood, a crimson so bright that Harry could barely make out the dark-red rose petals that were scattered on the sheets. Slowly, Harry looked up to see Draco standing beside the bed, completely naked except for a pair of black leather trousers. Harry reached out and lightly brushed his fingers across Draco's cheek. The skin was surprisingly soft and warm. Draco closed his clear, gray eyes and leaned in to kiss Harry, lightly, on the forehead. Gingerly, he kissed Harry's closed eyelids, and finally his mouth. A wave of pleasure left Harry tingling from head to toe. A soft moan escaped his lips and he was falling, falling, falling into a river of blood.  
  
Harry woke with a start. Groaning, he sat up and turned on the light. Gingerly he reached for his glasses and his room at the Dursley's swerved into sharp focus as he put them on. A light summer breeze blew in from the open window, rustling the curtains and gently caressing Harry's sweat soaked skin. With a start, Harry realized he was shaking from head to toe. He'd been having that dream again.  
  
Since the start of summer, he'd been having the same dream every night. At first, Harry had been too embarrassed to tell anyone. I mean come on, what was he supposed to say:  
  
Dear Professor Dumbledore,  
Hope, you're all right. Anyways, I've got this problem that I've been  
meaning to tell you about. You see, I've been having this weird dream  
about Draco Malfoy and in it we just happen to be snogging each other.  
Do you have any idea why I'm having it?  
--Harry Potter  
  
It sounded tacky even to Harry. Besides, it was Draco Malfoy he'd been kissing in the dream. Harry shuddered, Malfoy, his archenemy, and the one person he hated the most, even thinking about it made Harry sick. However, the dream was more than just adolescence, Harry knew that now. He had been trying to block it with what little Occlumency he had learned and yet every night, the dream came back again, even more vividly that the night before. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill from the nightstand, Harry began to write.  
  
Dear Professor Dumbledore...  
  
***  
  
The early morning light shone cold and harsh as Draco stepped into the main hall of the Manor. Draco had been out for an early morning ride with Sterling, his new stallion, and he had just come back from the stables. Slipping out of the riding jacket, he carelessly let it fall to the carpeted floor, knowing a house elf would come clean it up once he had left the main hall. Lightly, Draco strode up the grand marble staircase until he got to the third floor. Malfoy Manor was arranged so that each family member had an entire floor of the house for his or her personal use. In Draco's case, he had the third floor while his father had the second floor and his mother, the fourth. Draco smiled smugly to himself as he made his way to his study. Sitting down in the padded leather chair behind the antique mahogany desk, Draco opened the spell book in front of him. He was in a good mood today because he had finally found the last ingredient of the potion that would banish "the dream" from his sleep.  
  
Ever since he got out of St. Mungo's after Potter had hexed him, Draco had been having a disturbing dream about that Potter boy. At first, Draco thought it was some prank Potter had pulled on him but now Draco wasn't so sure. Invasion, especially into another's mind, was a dark spell that, to Draco's knowledge, could only be accomplished by a true dark wizard. It was unlikely that Saint Potter had anything to do with it.  
  
Draco carefully removed a vial from the secret compartment in the desk. If Draco had brewed the potion right, then one sip would guarantee he'd be shielded from all forms of legilimency and mind control as well as enhance his own legilimency abilities. The potion had been a complicated one, requiring the potion to be brewed in a pure silver cauldron and bottled in a polished diamond flask. Now, he had finally obtained the last ingredient. Gingerly, Draco removed another bottle from his pocket. Inside, was one drop of a slick, silvery liquid. Draco shuddered as he stared into the depths of the bottle. It was unicorn's blood. The unicorn had been a willing donor so the blood was not cursed, but looking at the liquid, Draco couldn't help but remember that night. That night when he and Potter had stumbled on the Dark Lord and he, Draco, had run from the ghastly sight of the slain unicorn and that shadowy figure drinking it's blood.  
  
Draco had a special affinity with unicorns. In fact, he had a special affinity with all creatures of the wood. When he was younger, he'd once called an entire herd of centaurs to his aid when a rogue werewolf had attacked him. Draco was a young Lord of the Woods. In fact he was the strongest Lord of the Woods since the Greek wizard, Pan; a fact that Draco had managed to hide from the rest of the wizarding world for 16 years, even going so far as to provoke a hippogriff into attacking him in his third year.  
  
Opening the bottles, Draco poured the unicorn's blood into the potion and swirled the dark red liquid around. At once, the potion turned so completely black that it seemed to draw all the sunlight out of the room. Raising the bottle to his lips, Draco drank it down in one painless gulp.  
  
Draco doubled over, clutching his stomach. The chair tipped forward and he ended up on the rug behind the desk. His stomach was on fire with a burning pain that spread slowly to the rest of his body. Draco stared wonderingly as black flames licked at his fingers, leaving them ice cold.  
  
Slowly, the pain receded, leaving Draco panting on the carpet. The magic that had thus filled the room was gone but Draco could still feel it, tingling, just out of reach. It was always this way with magic. You could sense it, but it was always hidden beneath the surface until you called upon it. The one skill that made dark wizards so powerful was the skill to hide their true potential, letting their opponents underestimate them. It had cost many an Auror his life.  
  
Draco sneered with contempt. Of course, his father had never understood that and looks where his father was now, Azkaban. Lucius was a disgrace to the Malfoy name and honor. It was a wonder that the rest of the family hadn't excommunicated him yet. Not that Draco could blame them. Over the years, the Malfoy family fortune had slowly disintegrated, leaving some branches of the family with nothing but the name of Malfoy. Draco's branch was one of the few remaining that had not only kept that fortune, but also increased it exponentially through smart politics and shady investments. Draco was now sitting on top of the biggest wizarding fortune in the world and he doubted that the others would dare refuse contact with such an easy source for money, no matter what he did. Draco was Master of the Malfoy Family now, and he was going to make sure that it stayed that way.  
  
***  
  
Professor Dumbledore frowned; troubled by the letter he had gotten from Harry. Dumbledore wasn't surprised that a dream could slip past the boy's Occlumency shields. Hell, who would be? The boy was a genius at destroying dark magic, but Harry was completely inept when it came to dark magic. However, after the wards he had put up around Privet Drive that summer, Dumbledore just wasn't prepared to deal with anymore of Harry's skewed dreams. Dumbledore frowned as he thought of the letter again. It had been unusual even for Harry. There was no mistaking the fact that Harry and Draco hated each other, so for Harry to start having passionate dreams about Malfoy was definitely not normal.  
  
Dumbledore had studied the Malfoy boy ever since he had arrived at the school five years ago. At first, Dumbledore had taken Draco to be a miniature version of Lucius, but then the boy had surprised him with the extent of the power Draco wielded so adeptly and the ease in which he had managed to hide that power from his teachers. The Professors all knew Draco was above average, but nothing truly significant. Then, at the beginning of Draco's third year, Dumbledore had found out about Draco's hidden talent. Draco was a young Lord of the Woods, a gift so rare that the last reported case was two hundred years ago. He did not know how strong a gift Draco had, but Dumbledore was willing to bet it would be one of the strongest in history. Perhaps Draco would be even more powerful than the wizard Pan Draco was descended from.  
  
Whatever the case, Harry was no longer safe on Privet Drive for the rest of the summer. Better that Harry could be at Hogwarts Castle where Dumbledore could more easily keep an eye on him.  
  
Ever since the public had accepted that Lord Voldemort had indeed returned, the Order of the Phoenix headquarters had been moved from the Grimmauld Place to Hogwarts where security was tighter and space was less limited. Dumbledore could easily send Tonks or Moody to portkey Harry back to Hogwarts.  
  
***  
  
Harry groaned and rolled his eyes as he stared at the now familiar red sheets and Rose petals.  
  
"Malfoy, you sick bastard!" snarled Harry angrily, "I don't care how gay you are, just stay the hell out of my dreams!"  
  
Draco stepped back, for once the cold sneering mask was torn away and uncertainty flickered in those cold, gray eyes before they went hard and empty.  
  
"I could say the same for you, Potter. I knew you didn't have a love life, but this is sick, this is beyond sick! If you are gay and have the hots for me, I didn't have to know."  
  
"At least I'm not the one going out with Pansy Parkinson," retorted Harry hotly.  
  
Draco went very still, once again, the calm mask was torn away and the look he gave Harry was pure malice. Leaning closer, Draco whispered in Harry's ear, "For your information, Harry, Parkinson is the whore of Slytherin and I have never gone out with her. I do have standards Potter, unlike you. And get your clothes on, you're flashing the entire room." Harry flushed and hurriedly gathered the sheets to cover himself.  
  
"So you didn't sent the dreams?" ventured Harry nervously.  
  
"No Potter, I didn't," replied Draco scornfully, "I'd thought you'd have figured that out by now but considering it was you, I'm not surprised.  
  
"Can it Malfoy, it's really not helping me think right now," snapped Harry angrily. "My apologies Potter, I didn't know you could think," said Draco with a sardonic smile.  
  
"Look Malfoy, I don't know about you but I'd rather like to stop these nightmares and the only way we can do that is by working together to figure out what the hell is wrong!"  
  
"What is there to figure out?" asked Draco, "Just stay the fuck out of my dreams!" "It's not that simple Malfoy," exclaimed Harry exasperatedly, "Don't you think I would if I could? Occlumency doesn't work on these dreams!" Draco was silent for a moment.  
  
Finally he ventured, "I tried brewing a potion to keep you out. It seems it doesn't work on this form of mind invasion."  
  
"What do you mean, Malfoy?" asked Harry suspiciously, "You either tell me now, or I tell Dumbledore about this!"  
  
"Don't tell me you told Dumbledore about the dreams?" asked Draco with a small smirk, "That's so like you, Potter. Dumbledore's favorite golden boy, let me guess, you're also lovers, right?"  
  
"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy!" snarled Harry, "Just shut the fuck up!"  
  
Draco obliged, a self-satisfied smile on his face. Leaning against the mahogany bedpost, he looked like a cat; a dangerous cat that wouldn't think twice about killing Harry if he had the right incentive. Cold fear flowed over Harry as he stared at Draco. Shit, Harry had never been scared of Draco before, but something had changed and Draco seemed more self- assured, more sure of his own superiority over Harry. Moonlight flowed through the open window, casting a pale, ethereal glow onto Draco's skin.  
  
"What else have you been hiding from me?" whispered Harry suspiciously, "You screwed up on your OWL's on purpose, didn't you? What kind of game are you playing, Malfoy?"  
  
Draco turned to face Harry, his eyes empty, "What are you talking about, Potter?"  
  
"Cut the chase, Malfoy, you know what I mean," replied Harry patiently, "You're not a great wizard Malfoy, we both know that, and we both know you don't leak magic like a swarm of wizards either. The only other wizard that feels anything close to what you just felt like is Lord Voldemort!"  
  
Something like panic flickered in Draco's eyes, "When have I ever answered to you Potter? Get out, I don't ever want to see you again, just get the fuck out!"  
  
With a jerk, Draco woke up; he shuddered with the memory of the dream. He had been so close, so fucking close to shattering that illusion he'd worked so hard to build. Shaking and soaked with cold sweat, Draco struggled into a robe before silently padding down the hall to his library.  
  
***  
  
Harry wanted to scream with rage. He had been so close, so close to learning about Malfoy's little secret last night. But why had Malfoy bolted like that? Harry pounded his fists into the wall with frustration. Malfoy was up to something; the dream reeked of it. But what on earth could it be?  
  
***  
  
Draco arranged himself carefully into the armchair in his father's study. He'd already bathed this morning and he was now dressed in an expensive white silk shirt that dripped lace and beautiful French ruffles. Black trousers that were so tight they looked painted on and knee high black dragon leather boots completed the outfit. Draco had briefly considered wearing the formal Malfoy robes but had decided against it. Wearing the robes would put Voldemort on guard and make him wary. If Draco's plan was to work, then he needed not only to impress Voldemort, but also to keep him guessing at Draco's game.  
  
Nodding to the cowering house elf, Draco silently gave him the order to open the study door. At once, Voldemort strode in. Rising gracefully from his own chair, Draco offered Voldemort a seat in front of the desk.  
  
"Well boy?" asked Voldemort, "You asked for a private audience and I have granted it. Now, would you care to explain why you have summoned me?"  
  
Draco smiled graciously as he returned to his seat behind the desk. Leaning back, he crossed his legs and steepled his fingers in a businesslike manner. "I would kindly ask that you refer to me as Master Malfoy," replied Draco with a humorless smile, "As you know, I am head of the Malfoy family in my father's absence."  
  
"Very well, young Master Malfoy," answered Voldemort with an amused smile that caused his snakelike face to spread malevolently, "Now what can I do with you."  
  
"I think a renegotiation of the treaties that bind the Malfoy's and my Lord together are in order," began Draco, "The House of Malfoy has faithfully served my Lord for many years and are still doing so today. However, it has come to my notice that you have never fulfilled the contract you signed with my father."  
  
"And what contract is that?" asked Voldemort quietly.  
  
"When the Malfoy's agreed to help you in your enterprise, it was with the understanding that we would be partners, equal in strength, and not your subordinates. It was also understood that we would have your protection," continued Draco, "Until both conditions have been fulfilled, the House of Malfoy shall remain neutral."  
  
"Perhaps it is you who do not understand, young Master," replied Voldemort condescendingly, "the contract was signed with the understanding that the Malfoy's would have the power to be my equals. If your father was not strong enough to be my equal, then I highly doubt his son would wield enough power either. Do not waste your time boy,"  
  
Draco just smiled that secret cattish smile, slowly, he withdrew his outermost shields, the air around them hissing madly with electricity making Voldemort shrink back with surprise and a little fear. "Never underestimate me, Voldemort," hissed Draco, "I do not bluff when I say you haven't tasted a fraction of my full power yet. You need me Voldemort, you need the strength and political clout of the House of Malfoy if you ever wish to expand beyond Europe and conquer the entire wizarding world."  
  
"You surprise me, Draco," confided Voldemort in a soft hiss of a voice, "So much power for one so young. Yet, I do believe that you still do not comprehend the present situation, boy. The Malfoys' fear me, more than they fear you. You cannot command their loyalty, young Master Malfoy."  
  
Draco raised one eyebrow elegantly, "Are you confident enough of that fact to risk losing your strongest ally? Face the facts, Voldemort, you've lost too many of your precious Death Eaters this summer. Even now, your supporters grumble behind your back about your fate. The wizarding world knows your back now and you are being hounded by Aurors. You are not in a position to administer empty threats."  
  
"What would you have me do?" asked Voldemort in an angry voice.  
  
"I want your word that no harm shall come to me or my people and that you acknowledge my right to remain neutral."  
  
Voldemort snakelike face fell, "I can give you my protection, if you wish it, but I cannot let you remain neutral."  
  
"It seems you have no choice," replied Draco in an empty voice.  
  
Voldemort snarled in frustration, "Just wait boy. Once your father gets out of Azkaban, you will be nothing for I shall see to it myself!"  
  
A cold wind blew through the study, ruffling Draco's fine blonde hair, "My father is no longer Master of this family; I am. Listen to me Voldemort, you are no longer welcome in this house, you shall never again be welcome here, and now get out!"  
  
***  
  
End 


	2. Enter Artemis

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this story and I'm not making a profit from this, so don't sue me. May contain vague references to Greek mythology, Anne Bishop, and Anita Blake.  
  
Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter finished. I was in Detroit for most of the Holidays and only just got back. Well, I hope you like this chapter. Sweat drop*. Ok, what else? Oh yeah, please review, reviews can help a writer know what she is doing wrong and correct it.  
  
Chapter 2 The door to the study slammed shut and Draco sank to the carpeted floor, trembling with fear. A small smile of relief played on Draco's lips. He had proven that, between Voldemort and himself, he was the more powerful wizard.  
  
Voldemort's power, it seemed, came from his supporters. He fed off all those who bore the dark mark. Each time the dark mark was cast, he gained more power. But there was a draw back to this type of power base. Each time someone bearing the dark mark died, Voldemort would lose a small part of his soul and a lot of power. The key to Voldemort's success as well as eventual defeat, were the elite group known as the Death Eaters. What had scared Draco was that Voldemort didn't seem to realize the full consequences of what he'd done. If Voldemort lost more than half his soul, then he would become well and truly insane.  
  
The formula for the spell Voldemort had cast was well documented in the journal of Artemis, one of Draco's several illustrious ancestors. Zeus, Artemis's father and the King of the Olympians, had used the same spell to establish his power base. Zeus' power mark, though, was not the Dark Mark but a jagged lightning bolt. Artemis had documented in excruciating detail Zeus' fall from sanity and his rather gruesome death at the hands of the God Slayers. Draco caressed the small leather bound volume and slid it back into its special protective case, making a small mental note to have it transferred to his own library later.  
  
***  
  
"Harry!" screeched Uncle Vernon, "Your.friends.are here!" Harry grinned happily as he ran down the stairs, suitcase in tow.  
  
"Harry!" exclaimed Tonks as she hugged him, "Gosh, it's good to see you again!"  
  
"Hey!" he said with a smile, "I didn't know when to expect you so I packed everything ahead of time. How are we leaving?" Tonks smiled and held up a small silver plaque. Harry grinned and just shook his head.  
  
"Don't tell me you turned that award into a portkey?" exclaimed Harry, "I remember that one, I got it in second year for destroying the basilisk."  
  
Tonks nodded happily, "I'd thought you'd get a laugh out of it. Now come on, here, let me get your suitcase. Hermione and Ron will be happy to see you again!" Harry smiled and waved goodbye to a horrified Uncle Vernon. He grabbed on to the portkey. The world swirled around until he was once again in Hogwarts Castle.  
  
"Come along, Harry," said Tonks in a very businesslike manner, "Dumbledore wants to see you right away. Just leave your stuff here and go to his office. I'll take care of the rest. The password is cockroach clusters."  
  
Half an hour later, Harry was once again sitting across from Dumbledore in the now familiar office, a cup of tea in his hands. The portraits of the different headmasters were all sleeping soundly in their picture frames. Harry frowned as he stared at Dumbledore's face. He seemed older somehow and there was a distinctively haunted look to his eyes. Harry wondered if he looked like that sometimes.  
  
"Describe last night's event's again, Harry," requested Dumbledore, "I want to make sure I got everything." Harry sighed and began to tell Dumbledore again about his conversation with Draco.  
  
"Professor?" asked Harry nervously, "What is Malfoy hiding?" Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temples.  
  
"How many OWL's did you get, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"Ten, Professor," he answered with a small nervous smile, "I missed astronomy and History of Magic."  
  
"Draco got all twelve of his OWL's," said Dumbledore, "He is a very strong wizard, Harry. His magical abilities rival even yours and he's also very smart. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he is even stronger than you are. He is very good at hiding his strength, you know. Draco is not what he seems to be and if you watch him closely, you will see what I mean."  
  
Harry frowned, "Alright then, Professor, keep your secrets."  
  
Dumbledore smiled mysteriously. Getting up from his chair he removed the sword of Gryffindor from its special display case and laid it in front of Harry.  
  
"I want you to have this Harry," said Dumbledore gravely, "Think of it as a belated birthday present. Use the Room of Requirement to practice in and ask Sir Nick to help you. This blade is a special blade, spelled to ward off almost all spells and capable of cutting through almost anything like it was butter. I have a bad feeling that you will need it soon. The sheath comes with a special holster so you can carry it under your robes on your back. Wear it always, Harry."  
  
Almost reverently, Harry grasped the hilt of the sword and drew it, one inch at a time from its sheath. The blade was just as he had remembered it. It was long, almost 40 inches in length. The thin steel blade was polished till Harry could see his reflection in the metal and the inscription of Godric Gryffindor shone brightly in the sunlight. Gently, Harry ran his fingers against the blade, nicking his finger on the very top of the sword. Blood welled from the wound and spilled onto the blade and hilt. Gently, Harry slid the sword back into its sheath and slid the holster over his shoulders.  
  
"I don't know what to say, thank you, Professor," mumbled Harry.  
  
Dumbledore smiled, "Take good care of it, Harry. Now, I have to ask you to do something for me. I want you to let me use Legilimency on you and let me into your dreams tonight."  
  
"But I don't know whether I'll have the dream again, Professor," objected Harry nervously.  
  
"Harry, you've been having this dream every night, chances are you'll be having it tonight and we need to know what is going on so we can block these dreams," explained Dumbledore patiently.  
  
Harry hesitated before nodding resignedly, "Alright then."  
  
"I'll try to stay out of most of your dreams and just skin through till I find the dream we need. Now, Ron and Hermione are up in the Gryffindor common room. I believe they are rather anxious to see you again."  
  
Accepting his dismissal, Harry left the office and headed up to the Gryffindor tower. Climbing up the stairs, Harry realized that he didn't know what the password was. Luckily, Hermione decided to show up just then.  
  
"Harry!" she cried happily, "You're back! We heard the other's say you'd be back today but we didn't know when!"  
  
Harry grinned as he hugged Hermione, "I've been back for awhile but I was stuck in a meeting with Dumbledore. Let's go into the common room where we can catch up."  
  
"Of course," replied Hermione as she gently brushed Harry's hair out of his eyes. Somehow, Harry found the gesture oddly comforting, like a secret shared between two siblings.  
  
"The password's 'Honeur'," said Hermione as they clambered through the portrait hole, "Ron's down in the Potion's dungeon. Mrs. Weasely's forcing him to get extra lessons with Snape since he got his OWL's back.  
  
"Snape?" asked Harry in a horrified voice, "Why didn't Ron say something?"  
  
"Now Harry!" reprimanded Hermione sternly, "Snape is a great potions teacher, if you pay attention in his class, you know. Besides, Ron needs practice in potions; he barely understands the basics and this year we're learning about dark level potions like love potions and such. You and Ron are going to need all the practice you can get!"  
  
Harry made a face, "Oh well!" It's not like I'm going to major in Potions or anything. I'll be an Auror, what do Aurors need to know about potions anyway? Besides, I did pass the OWL for the class."  
  
Hermione sighed resignedly, "Harry, not all of the dark arts deal with spells, you know. A great chunk of it has to do with potions. You need to do well in the class! I came back early from summer vacation in Italy just to get more one on one time with the teachers!"  
  
Harry stared at her in disbelief, "Sometimes, I just don't understand you, Hermione."  
  
"Same here," replied Hermione, "Oh hey, did Dumbledore tell you any of the rumors circulating about the Malfoy family?"  
  
Harry felt his stomach tighten into a cold ball of dread, "No, he didn't mention anything, what of it?"  
  
"Well, Ron heard Snape tell McGonagall that the new Master Malfoy actually, well, blew Voldemort off," whispered Hermione excitedly, "The guy actually banished Voldemort from Malfoy Manor and told him that the Malfoy's have withdrawn their support. We haven't been able to figure out who replaced that git, Lucius, but who ever it is, is on our side!  
  
Harry shook his head in disbelief, "I can't imagine a single Malfoy who would be on our side. I mean Draco is well.Draco, and Narcissa Malfoy is well-," Harry choked back tears and Hermione looked away uncomfortably.  
  
"Yes," she said hurriedly, "I know, that's why we're all wondering what the hell's going on."  
  
Harry didn't say anything but an edge of doubt had crept into his mind. Was this what Dumbledore meant when he said Draco was not what he seemed to be? Harry doubted it, but still, if it were true, then it would throw a whole new light on things.  
  
***  
  
Artemis froze as she heard the empty clappety-clap of hooves behind her. With out turning around, she asked, "Why have you followed me here, brother?" Do not do this, Artemis," pleaded Pan as he walked up to his sister, "It is not yet time for the boy to know." "Yes, Pan, it is," said Artemis sternly, "Age is no longer an issue here, if he's going to go up against Voldemort, the ceremony must be now, he must be initiated into his true calling if he is to survive the maelstrom he has unleashed." "Then let me approach him," argued Pan, "Let me perform the ceremony, instead." Artemis shook her head, "No Pan, the ceremony will not be as strong if I am not there, after all, I am THE Lady of the Woods." Pan stiffened and his eyes went hard, however his words were reasonable.  
  
"Then allow me to accompany you," persisted Pan, "Look, you are not the only one worried about the future of the Olympian line. We all are!"  
  
Artemis sighed, "Alright then, come on." Like two silent shadows, they glided through the empty streets of Hog's Head and up the country lane towards Malfoy Manor.  
  
Malfoy Manor was hidden in the hills above the village of Hog's Head. The actual building was more of a castle than a manor. Built nearly eight hundred years ago, the castle still had many of the battlements and ramparts that had been the original defense. New extensions had been added over the centuries and the inner courtyard had been torn up to be replaced by a small private garden with a fountain. The outer walls had been expanded to include bigger stables, four pastures and an extensive network of gardens and patches of forest. The outer wall was marble incased stone that gleamed in the moonlight and the gate was tall and imposing of cast black iron, bearing the Malfoy family coat of arms. Both the manor and the lands surrounding it were unplottable, no one could Apparate inside the grounds, all Muggle technology was rendered useless and the entire property was covered with Muggle repelling charms. Anyone with a drop of magical blood would be blocked from setting one foot in the manor unless they had been invited in by one of Malfoy blood. All in all, it was the most secure building in the entire wizarding world.  
  
Artemis and Pan glided silently up to the great gates. Taking her wand out of her pocket, Artemis tapped the unicorn's head on the seal. Immediately, the gates swung inward and they continued their journey through the elaborate maze of gardens.  
  
***  
  
Draco snarled with rage at a cowering Harry. A chill wind blew through the window, making Harry pull the sheets closer around his naked body. Dumbledore sat calmly at the edge of the bed, his hands folded in his lap. Restlessly, almost like a cat, Draco paced the length of the room.  
  
"Draco, please calm down, I'm here to help you," said Dumbledore calmly, "We have to get to the bottom of these dreams and figure out why the two of you are having them."  
  
"I don't need your help," said Draco scornfully, "I've got this all figured out!"  
  
"If you have this all figured out, then we wouldn't be here now," replied Dumbledore reasonably. Draco frowned and stalked towards Dumbledore, letting him feel the full force of his power. Dumbledore didn't flinch.  
  
"Draco, just tell me what you know," repeated Dumbledore calmly, "And while the power show is impressive, it is getting a bit distracting."  
  
Draco stepped back like he'd been stun, and uncertainty flickered in his eyes. Slowly, Draco began to tighten his shields until the magic was completely gone, making Draco seem more like the Draco Malfoy Harry had known for the past five years. He looked like a small, lost child and Harry had the sudden urge to put his arms around Draco and comfort him.  
  
"The cute act isn't working either, " said Dumbledore in an amused voice, "Please Draco, just cut the chase and let's get to the point."  
  
Draco smiled suddenly, "You are good. Voldemort would have fallen for that trick."  
  
"Voldemort has no subtlety," replied Dumbledore, almost dismissively, "He rules only by fear. A true leader leads because he has the confidence and trust of his supporters."  
  
The humor died on Draco's face, "You surprise me, old man. I guess that neither of us are what we pretend to be."  
  
"You could say that, Draco, now are you planning on telling me what you know?" persisted Dumbledore nonchalantly.  
  
"Alright then, " said Draco suddenly with a smile, "Despite everything, I trust you. You really are good."  
  
Taking a seat in the armchair beside the nightstand, Draco proceeded to tell Harry and Dumbledore about the dreams and about the potion he had brewed. Finally, Draco finished the story and the room was silent.  
  
"Could you have brewed the potion wrong?" asked Harry in a small, nervous voice.  
  
"No," replied Dumbledore and Draco at the same time.  
  
"No," continued Dumbledore, "I recognize the potion from its ingredients and the description Draco gave of what happened after the potion was drunk. The potion tells me one important thing, though. The dreams aren't hostile and aren't sent by an outside force."  
  
Draco frowned and Harry looked puzzled, finally, Harry asked, "What do you mean, Professor?"  
  
"It's a special gift for two people to have this bond," replied Dumbledore, "Almost like the tie Harry has with Voldemort but much more intimate. It's like a mingling of two souls and it cannot be blocked by any magical solution I know of. Ask Fred and George about it, Harry. They're the only two people I know who share that kind of tie. It's usually only found between lovers or really close family members, and strong emotions always enhance the connection." Dumbledore stared at them as if the last part was significant somehow.  
  
"I do not have strong feelings for Harry," objected Draco angrily, "And we are not lovers!"  
  
"I never said the two of you were lovers, Draco," said Dumbledore with a smile, "But you do hate each other and that is a strong emotion. My belief is that Harry and you are distantly related." Draco and Harry looked at each other with renewed horror.  
  
"How could I be related to him?" Harry blurted out, "I mean, come on, he's a Malfoy!" Harry spat out the name as if it was a dirty word.  
  
"I agree," said Draco loftily, "There is no way that someone of such poor breeding and even worse magical talent could be a Malfoy. He is half Mudblood."  
  
Dumbledore held up both hands, silencing Harry and Draco's angry protests. "I said might be related," continued Dumbledore, "What I mean is that the House of Malfoy has been around for over two thousand years. During that time, many branches of the family have been excommunicated for one reason or another. Has it ever occurred to you, Draco, that Harry might be a descendant from one of these forgotten branches?"  
  
Draco frowned but nodded unhappily, "It could be possible, although in that case Harry wouldn't be a true Malfoy unless he was re-communicated which means he's technically not a relative. However, what I want to know is how to stop these dreams."  
  
"That is the part where even I'm out of my depth," said Dumbledore unhappily, "Fred and George seem to control their link just fine. It could be that hatred blocks your control over it or that the bond is so new that neither of you are capable of controlling it yet. What I do know is that physical closeness enhances one's control over the link."  
  
"Define physical closeness," interrupted Harry, "I am not going to snog Malfoy if that's what you mean."  
  
Dumbledore smiled, "Nothing that crude, Mr. Potter. I only meant that the two of you must see each other on a daily basis like you do at school, always bumping into each other in classes and in the halls, starting fights and what not." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled when he said that last part, "I think that it would be best if Master Malfoy spent the rest of the summer at Hogwarts."  
  
Draco lifted one eyebrow elegantly, "Would you really trust a Malfoy in the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters?"  
  
"Not normally," replied Dumbledore, "However, you are no longer Voldemort's spy and I do trust you."  
  
"Why would you trust someone like me?" asked Draco in an empty voice, "Don't you know that I could stab you in the back and not feel a moment's remorse?"  
  
"But you won't do that," said Dumbledore evenly, "You were never one to risk losing a potential ally, unlike your father and the Dark Lord."  
  
"Alright then," agreed Draco in a carefully neutral voice, "I will return to Hogwarts early on the condition that I get the empty tower above the Slytherin dungeons as my personal suite."  
  
"Agreed," said Dumbledore briskly, "I shall expect your return in one week. Come on Harry, let's go!"  
  
The room disappeared in a swirl of color and Draco was suddenly lying wide- awake on his own bed. Taking deep breaths, he counted slowly to ten before turning the lights on. The room was filled with the bright warmth of candlelight, making Draco blink in the sudden illumination and shield his eyes until they got used to the sudden light.  
  
Slipping on a robe, Draco padded out into the empty hallway. Slowly, he made his way to the library, when a sudden movement caught his eye. Whipping his wand out, he pointed it at the two shadowy figures in the hall. At once, the chandeliers overhead blazed to life, illuminating the hallway and revealing the two figures to be a young woman and a man.  
  
The woman was young, not past her early twenties by Draco's estimate. Waist length hair fell in soft waves down her back, framing her delicately beautiful face and figure. Her skin was dark; like it had been tanned from being out in the sun too much and her light green eyes were big and set far apart. Her nose was small but perfectly shaped and she would have been doll like but something in the turn of her jaw or the look in her eyes made her seem more jaded than innocent.  
  
The man, if you could call him a man, was definitely the more spectacular of the two. Dark black hair fell in wild curls down to his shoulders. His eyes were a brilliant, vibrant blue in color that stood out against his pale, pale skin. A short straggly beard covered his chin and mouth and thick black eyebrows framed his eyes, giving them a dark, brooding look. But most spectacular of all were the small goat horns peeking out inside his hair and the cloven hooves and furred legs that moved beneath his black wizarding robes.  
  
"Who are you?" demanded Draco angrily, "and how did you manage to get past the wards?"  
  
The woman smiled and stepped forward; hands open before her to show that she was unarmed. Draco stepped back but kept his wand pointed at her. "I am Artemis, the founder of the House of Malfoy," she said in a soft but clear voice, "We have come for you Draco, as you always knew we would."  
  
"How do I know you aren't lying about who you are?" asked Draco suspiciously.  
  
"Look, kid, we got past the wards, only a true Malfoy can do that, what more proof do you want?" asked Pan angrily, "And stop pointing that thing, it makes me nervous." Draco smiled but didn't put away his wand.  
  
Artemis sighed resignedly, "Pan, let me handle this one, alright?" Pan stepped back but glared resentfully at his sister.  
  
"Alright then, Draco, I'll pay your little game," said Artemis, "How do you want me to prove myself?"  
  
Draco's smile brightened, "If you are really Artemis, then you should have a lightning bolt scar on your right forearm where Zeus marked you." Artemis smiled and lifted her sleeve, revealing the jagged scar on her forearm.  
  
"And you brother, if that satyr is truly your brother, Pan, he should have a matching scar." Pan snorted in disgust and pushed up his sleeve to show a brawny forearm. Sure enough, a lightning bolt scar cut across the pale, white skin.  
  
"Satisfied?" asked Artemis as she let the sleeve fall back into place.  
  
"Almost, replied Draco, "I have one more test for you. If you are Artemis then you should be able to take the form of a shadow hound. After all, the shadow hound is Artemis' beast to call."  
  
Artemis smiled. Slowly, before Draco's eyes she began to change. Her brown hair billowed out around her, turning the color of the darkest shadow, a slick silvery gray. Fur spread along her back and Artemis' eyes bled into a beautiful amber color. Suddenly a beautiful shadow hound stood at Draco's side.  
  
Shadow hounds are extraordinarily beautiful creatures, lithe and graceful of shape with long, slender legs built for speed. This one was no exception. Artemis' animal form was typical of any shadow hound except that she was much larger and her fur was tinted with brown as well as silver and gray. Draco swallowed nervously. Reaching out, he gently ran his fingers through the soft fur of the dog's back.  
  
"Alright," replied Draco breathlessly, "I believe you, why have you come, Artemis?" Artemis slowly changed back until she was once again in human form.  
  
"It is time for you to either accept who you are or to deny the gift that has made you the wizard you are," began Artemis seriously, "Draco, I don't know how to tell you this, but you are my Heir, the heir I have been waiting for, for millennia. History is to repeat itself again, and you must play the part I did so long ago. I am here because it is time for you to accept your place as the Lord of the Woods and replace me as the new Hunter."  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Draco suspiciously, "How is history repeating itself, what role is this that I am supposed to play?"  
  
I think you already know, Draco," replied Artemis, "Voldemort, the Heir of Zeus walks the earth again, wreaking havoc on the wizarding world. Listen to me, Draco; Voldemort must die. He is the spirit of a mad god and the Olympians have not the strength anymore to defeat him. But, you do, Draco; you and the heir of Apollo would be able to stop him if you undergo the earth ceremony and claim your place as The Lord of the Woods as I am now The Lady of the Woods. The Fates have foretold your coming since the day Zeus was defeated. They said that the heirs of Apollo and Artemis would become the new God Slayers and defeat Zeus again. Draco, Voldemort knows the prophecy, he knows of your coming. What's more he knows that you are my Heir, he has known since the moment of your birth. He suffered you to exist only because he thought you were on his side. But no more, Draco, will he be content to let you live. You have betrayed him and he fears would you would do next. You must undergo the ceremony if you are to have any chance of defeating him."  
  
Draco scoffed, "He is weak and cannot hurt me. However, you are right, I should undergo the earth ceremony just in case."  
  
Pan frowned and interjected, "Look kid, don't underestimate Voldemort's power. With the strength the dark mark gives him and the support of the death eaters, even Dumbledore is no match for him. I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you."  
  
"Pan, leave him alone," sighed Artemis, "He'll learn soon enough. Draco, meet us tomorrow night at midnight in the forest where the sacred clearing is. Pan, come on, we're troubled the poor boy enough for one night."  
  
Draco blinked in surprise at the empty hallway and shook his head. How the hell did they apparate while still on Manor grounds? There were certain things; Draco had found out, that he did not want to know about. *** End P.S.: Next chapter is going to be very short. I'm sorry about that but, well, I had no choice b/c I had no place to end it but where I did since a lot of stuff is going to happen in chapter 4.  
  
P.P.S.: Thanks to Miss Lesley, RikuNghts, and Lady Theriss for reviewing! 


	3. Back to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this story and I'm not making a profit from this, so don't sue me. May contain vague references to Greek mythology, Anne Bishop, and Anita Blake.  
  
It's been a really hellish week. Grumble* Friday was the end of the semester and well, let's just say it was a nightmare Anyways, I did manage to finish this chapter although not as soon as I hoped. Well, here you are, and don't bother me about how long I took typing this. I'm not in a good mood and for your information; I submitted this the moment I was through editing it, all right? Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go bury myself in a hole somewhere.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
A warm, summer breeze blew in through the clearing, rustling the leaves overhead. Artemis stood by the stone altar, the sacred knife and silver bowl beside her on the altar. Slowly, Draco paced towards her, letting his power flare out behind his as he moved. Somewhere in the distance, a flute began to play softly; it's music filling the clearing with sweet song. Somehow, without asking, Draco knew that the music came from Pan, like he knew that every creature in the woods had come here tonight, drawn to him by the magic.  
  
"As the old stag steps back and the young stag takes his place, so also does the old Huntress steps back for the Green Lord who shall become the Hunter. So continues the never-ending cycle of life and death, of birth and renewal," began Artemis in a soft voice that nevertheless echoed through the clearing. Smiling, she walked towards Draco until they were so close they nearly touched each other.  
  
"Come, young Lord, let us dance," she whispered softly into Draco's ear. Draco let the black robes he was wearing fall to the forest floor. He stood before Artemis now, dressed only in a pair of billowy silk trousers. Pale moonlight shone into the clearing, casting a bluish glow onto Draco's chest and turning his silver hair into a gleaming halo of light. His bare feet made almost no sound at all as he began the first few steps of the dance.  
  
The music changed, no longer was it content to be soft and distant, but strong and sweet. It soared to new heights before spiraling down only to soar up again. The dance became faster now and the two dancers moved in furious steps around the altar. Magic filled the clearing; magic unlike anything that Draco had ever felt before. Draco closed his eyes and felt a part of him that had been dormant rise to the surface. He needed blood. The thought of it filled his mind until there was nothing but the hunger and need for it. Draco let out a strangled scream and sank to his knees. A knife flashed in the moonlight and the scent of fresh blood filled the night air, making Draco's nostrils flare with excitement as he watched the bright red liquid drip slowly from Artemis' wrist into the silver bowl.  
  
"Drink, my Lord," she said, "and be renewed." Draco grabbed the bowl from Artemis' hands, all sense of composure lost now in the sudden blood lust.  
  
The blood tasted like nothing he'd ever tasted before; full of the sweet scent of the woods, the bitter taste of long sorrowful years, and the strength of millennia. Draco doubled over with the feel of the power, the pure, raw power that was now inside him, a part of him. He was one with the woods, with nature, and for a moment he felt like he was not just one small link in the chain but the chain itself. Draco slowly sank down into the grass until he lay there among the fallen leaves, panting for breath. Artemis and Pan stood at either end of the altar. The bowl and knife were gone, replaced by a sword and a polished unicorn's horn, inlaid with silver and precious jewels.  
  
Artemis spoke, "Blood is the memory's river. Rise and call your animal so that all may recognize your place as The Lord of the Woods and of the Hunt!"  
  
"I call forth the Dragon," said Draco, "Ever was it my namesake and guardian." Silver scales crawled up Draco's back and his fingers elongated to become curved talons. His eyes darkened into a brilliant midnight blue that glowed in the night. He arched his back and huge ridges grew from his spine, forming sharp spikes that marched up his back. Featherless wings with cruel talons grew out of his back and his neck and body elongated until he towered above the clearing a beautiful, silver dragon like none other.  
  
"I also call the unicorn," continued Draco in a sibilant voice, "Ever was it my guardian and the guardian of all Malfoys'."  
  
The scales receded to be replaced by white fur, the color of fresh snow and he grew smaller in size. His fine silver blonde hair turned into a brilliant, silver mane and a horn of what looked like mother of pearl sprouted from Draco's forehead. He stood suddenly, in unicorn form, a brilliant white stallion. For a moment, Draco stood perfectly still before the fur began to recede. He collapsed to his knees, a human boy again.  
  
For a long moment, the clearing was silent except for the sound of Draco's harsh breathing. Finally Pan whispered in a shaky voice, "So be it. Rise my Lord, and receive the tools of your status."  
  
With trembling hands, Pan placed the horn in Draco's hands. The horn shimmered for a few seconds before changing into a wand made of dark mahogany wood. Draco's eyes widened in surprise but he didn't drop it.  
  
"This," said Pan, "Is a wand made from the horn of the first Unicorn. It has chosen you to be it's new wielder."  
  
Artemis picked up the sword and handed it to Draco. The hilt was made of silver with gold filigree and set with emeralds and green jade. The sheath was of dark leather, bound by metal rings and a pattern of silver and gold fleur de lis trailed down the smooth leather. Slowly, Draco drew the sword from its sheath. The blade was of folded steel made with the highest concentration of silver possible. It was shaped almost like a leaf and an intricate design of woodland creatures ran down blade. Draco began the first few steps of a basic sword dance, testing the weight and balance of the weapon. Satisfied at last, he slid the weapon slowly back into its sheath and laid it gently on top of his robes. Artemis smiled, "I hope the weapon is to your liking. It was mine and it has been the weapon of choice of the Huntress through many years, I hope it serves its new master well. Strong earth magic is bound into that blade. It will act as a focus for your magic and protect you from all but the most deadly of curses."  
  
"Thank you," replied Draco, "You honor me with your gifts."  
  
Don't thank me yet," said Artemis seriously, "Thank me when they have saved your life."  
  
"We shall leave now," said Pan, "Call if you need us." Once again they seemed to disappear magically into the night. Draco shook his head; they were going to have to teach him that trick sometime.  
  
***  
  
"Did you see that?" asked Pan shakily as he and his sister finally made their way up to the room they were sharing at the local inn, "He has not one animal to call, but two! How can it be possible?" Artemis just shook her head.  
  
"I don't know, brother," she replied, "He is strong, stronger than even I suspected. I fear, however, that it will not be enough. We must pray that Apollo finds his Heir, and quickly. Or else all is lost."  
  
***  
  
Harry stared with disbelief at the parade of house elves carrying various trunks and pieces of furniture up into the Slytherin tower. Ron snorted in disgust, "Trust Malfoy to make a show of his arrival."  
  
"Well, he has style," said Hermione in a strangled voice, "You have to give him that."  
  
Ron and Harry stared at her as if she had gone crazy. "Hermione!" blurted out Ron, "This is Malfoy we are talking about. He is the most selfish bastard we know!"  
  
"As well as the most gorgeous one," said Draco as he stepped into the great hall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at him with shock, horror, disgust and, (on Hermione's and Harry's part) grudging admiration. Draco smiled and stalked towards them as if he knew exactly what they were thinking. A small smile of amusement played on his lips. He was dressed in a beautiful lacy shirt, the color of spring leaves, complete with a beautiful black cape that flared out behind him as he walked. He was taller now, just a couple of inches shorter than Ron, but he managed to look graceful and elegant, instead of awkward and lanky. Tight black pants and black dragon leather leather boots completed the outfit. At his side, he wore an emerald encrusted sword.  
  
"You look absolutely ridiculous!" remarked Hermione scathingly.  
  
Draco came to a stand still in front of her. One eyebrow lifted in amusement as he replied, "Au contraire, Ma Cherie, I believe you think me to be absolutely gorgeous. What was it that you just said? Ah yes, I recall now: 'Well, he has style, you have to give him that." Hermione flushed a brilliant scarlet as Draco laughed derisively.  
  
Hermione was just going to retort when Dumbledore stepped into the front hall. "Ah," began Dumbledore in a bemused voice, "Young Master Malfoy, I hope you find your new suite to your liking." Malfoy smiled and swept him an elegant bow.  
  
"I have yet to check the accommodations," replied Draco, "Seeing as I just arrived, the house elves should be setting things up right around now. I hope you don't mind Dumbledore, but I took the liberty of telling my bodyguards to come also, they should be here sometime next week."  
  
"The esteemed Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle shall be most welcome provided that you swear to their trustworthiness," replied Dumbledore, "After all, I do not want any spies in Headquarters."  
  
"Don't worry, Dumbledore," assured Draco, "They are completely loyal."  
  
Dumbledore nodded gravely, "Very well then. I shall be in my office if you need me." With that, Dumbledore swept up the marble staircase and out of sight.  
  
Draco turned to face Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "I'd love to stay and chat but I, also, have things to attend to. I shall see the three of you at dinner then."  
  
"Of all the disgusting, the horrible, the terrible things-," sputtered Hermione angrily. Harry sighed and shook his head.  
  
"It's alright Hermione, don't let him get to you," said Harry soothingly, "Come on, let's go visit Hagrid."  
  
***  
  
"And then, he just left like that," finished Hermione furiously, "I mean we all know what an infuriating bastard Malfoy is, but sometimes I just want to kill him!"  
  
Hagrid patted her hand gently, "There, there Hermione, it's alright."  
  
"Why is he here so early anyways?" asked Ron angrily, "I mean school doesn't start for another three weeks!"  
  
"Dumbledore said because Malfoy wanted to do some extra studying to prepare for his NEWT's," informed Harry defensively.  
  
Ron snorted, "I don't buy that at all. I think he's here as a spy for You- Know-Who. I mean, look at him, going on about how great the Dark Lord is, I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be a Death Eater!"  
  
"Look, if Dumbledore trusts him, then why all the worry?" asked Harry impatiently, "It's not like Malfoy is truly evil or anything."  
  
"Dumbledore trusts Snape!" exclaimed Ron, "Look Harry, Malfoy's mother betrayed Sirius. How can you stand up for him like that?"  
  
"You just don't get it, do you?" asked Harry angrily. "How can I get it if you don't tell me anything?" asked Ron in an exasperated voice.  
  
"Never mind!" said Harry angrily, "I'm leaving!" With that, Harry stomped out of the hut and back towards the castle.  
  
Ron shook his head with disgust, "Sometimes I just don't understand him at all. Hermione, what's wrong with him?"  
  
Hermione sighed, "Leave him alone, Ron. He's just a little moody that's all."  
  
"Er, I guess this isn't the best time to tell you two this," mumbled Hagrid, "But I'm not goin t' teach this year. Me an' Olympe are going to France to talk wi' the French Ministry. Yer new teacher's Professor Olympia."  
  
Ron and Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "But Hagrid!" protested Hermione, "You've already missed a lot of last year already!"  
  
"Hermione, it'll only be fer one year an' Professor Olympia is really good! Honest!"  
  
"But it's not the same, Hagrid," said Ron, "You're the best teacher any of us have ever had!"  
  
"I'm flattered an' all," replied Hagrid, "but I 'ave to go. It's Dumbledore's orders!" Hermione looked downcast, "We'll miss you Hagrid."  
  
Hagrid smiled suddenly, "I'll miss you guys too. Now, why don' ye go an' look fer Harry. Figger out what's wrong with him an' all. 'e listens to you, Hermione, see if ye can't get 'im t' talk."  
  
***  
  
Harry stepped into the Room of Requirement; sword strapped to his back and ran right into Draco. With a yell of surprise, Draco dropped his sword and jumped back. "Potter!" he exclaimed, "What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?"  
  
Harry stared at the sword Draco had just dropped and leaned over to pick it up. Draco grabbed it first and slipped it into its sheath. "You know fencing?" asked Harry, mildly surprised.  
  
"Not that it's any of your business Potter, but yes, I do know how to fence. I've been learning since I was a little boy."  
  
The next question surprised Draco, catching him completely off guard, "Will you teach me?"  
  
"Well, it depends Potter," replied Draco, "Why do you want to learn?" Harry hesitated for a moment before pulling the sword of Gryffindor out of its sheath.  
  
"Dumbledore gave it to me and told me to learn how to use it," said Harry cautiously. Draco's eyes softened as he examined the sword.  
  
"Godric Gryffindor," read Draco with surprise, "My, my, this is a special sword. Alright then, I'll teach you, but we'll do this my way."  
  
Harry nodded, "sure, how do we start?"  
  
Draco smirked, "First, take off your robes."  
  
Harry stared at him, "What?"  
  
"Well don't take them off if you're wearing nothing underneath, but robes will only slow you down in fencing."  
  
Harry glared at Draco for a minute but obediently slipped out of the robes, revealing the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing underneath.  
  
"Now, stand with one foot in front of you, sword out."  
  
***  
  
Harry groaned with relief as he sank down into the luxurious bubble bath in the prefect's bathroom. He was a prefect this year, and all in all, he was enjoying the fringe benefits that came with the job.  
  
Never again was he ever going to ask Malfoy to teach him something. Oh, to be fair, Malfoy was a good teacher, but he was strict. By the end of the lesson, Harry had bruises blossoming on his cheeks and arms and his joints were so stiff, he could barely move. He was a better fencer though. He had learned several basic blocks and stances as well as a basic sword dance. Draco had even said that they might begin practicing on the magically animated dummy during the next practice session.  
  
***  
  
Draco stepped out of his private bathroom. A towel tied around his waist. Absently, he slipped on a white satin shirt. Fastening the cuffs with silver cuff links, he tucked the shirt into the delicately creased dress pants he had put on. Deftly, he tightened the silver silk tie, which he slipped into the gray vest he had slipped on ever the shirt. Expensive, black designer loafers went next and black silk, dress robes, fastened at the waist by a silver buckle in the shape of a dragon, completed the outfit. Staring at himself in the mirror, Draco had to admit that he looked every bit the arrogant Malfoy he was supposed to play. Closing the bedroom door behind him, Draco slowly made his way to the Great Hall.  
  
There was only one table set up in the Hall and when Draco arrived, and everyone was already seated. The tension in the air was thick enough to walk on as everyone watched Draco take a seat beside Snape, directly across from Harry.  
  
"Well," said Mrs. Weasley, "What would you like to eat, Draco?"  
  
***  
  
Harry sighed with relief as he followed, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny out of the Great Hall. Dinner, which was usually a happy event, had been tense. None of the adults spoke except for Snape who had proceeded to tell Mrs. Weasley exactly how abysmal Ron was at Potions. Mr. Weasley, who would usually descend upon Harry and Hermione with tons of questions said nothing and looked away nervously whenever Malfoy's gaze wandered his way. All in all, Harry was glad to be rid of the tension that had spread since Malfoy's arrival.  
  
In spite of all the things Malfoy had done, Harry felt bad for him. Being the recipient of all that angry tension must have been hard, yet Draco had played his part well. He had been gracious, elegant, and well mannered in a way Harry had never known Draco could be before. Harry hated to admit it, but he was beginning to see Malfoy less as an enemy and more as a friend.  
  
"Are you really?" asked an amused voice inside his head, "And here I was thinking you hated me."  
  
"Draco???" asked Harry out loud, "But how-,"  
  
"I'm in your head, silly, said the voce again, "Think the words at me and for heaven's sake don't scream in my head!"  
  
"How did you get in here?" demanded Harry angrily, "Don't play with me Malfoy, I'm serious, what's going on?"  
  
"You're no fun!" said the voice; "Look I researched our link in my library after Dumbledore explained to us. I can control the link now. Why else do you think you haven't been having those dreams lately?"  
  
"So you can teach me how to control this link?" asked Harry dubiously.  
  
"Yes, I can teach you. I'll do it tomorrow after our fencing lesson, alright?" replied the voice testily.  
  
"Good, now get the hell out of my head, Malfoy!"  
  
"Gladly."  
  
Suddenly, the voice was gone and Harry was left all alone in the empty hall. All right, maybe he was wrong about Malfoy being nice. I mean a friend wouldn't just come into your mind and invade your privacy uninvited, right?  
  
***  
  
"It's quite simple, actually, explained Draco patiently, as he lay down on the couch, one leg thrown carelessly over the arm rest, "what both of us have been doing wrong was that we expected the dreams to be from a place other than ourselves. Look into your mind, Potter, you should find a door that's open. You can close or open it at will, if you concentrate your energy into controlling it. That's the door on your side of the link. If you step through, you should see a closed door behind your open one; that door is the door to my mind. Try it."  
  
Harry frowned skeptically but obediently closed his eyes and focused on finding the door. Almost instantaneously, it appeared. The door was huge, made of dark, polished wood with a handle of gold set with an egg shaped ruby. Harry tried to close it but his hands were immaterial and passed right through the door. From the other side, another door opened and Draco stepped out. He leaned nonchalantly on his door.  
  
"You cannot push it, it will not move," he explained, "You must think it's closed and picture it that way before it will close."  
  
I'll try," said Harry doubtfully. His brow wrinkled in concentration as he focused on closing the door. With a dull thump, the door slammed shut and Harry opened his eyes to see Draco sitting up on the couch.  
  
"That was good," admitted Draco grudgingly, "Try it again for practice." Half an hour later, Harry could control the link competently if not with ease. Running through the procedure one last time, Harry made sure he closed the door tight before opening his eyes again.  
  
"Why are you helping me?" asked Harry curiously as he leaned back against the cushions of his chair, "Don't get me wrong, Malfoy, but I never took you for the type who'd help their enemies."  
  
"Malfoy shrugged, "I don't consider you as a enemy. Potter, and I know you don't think I'm your enemy either. Besides, your weak control of the link between us could be a potential weak point for both of us."  
  
"That's just like you, Malfoy," replied Harry disgustedly, "Only thinking of yourself, as always."  
  
Draco lifted one eyebrow elegantly, "Maybe I do, Potter, but it's none of your business really. I'm a survivor and not a martyr."  
  
Harry snorted, "And where does pissing off Voldemort fit into this ingenious survival plan? Don't get me wrong, I admire what you did to Voldemort, but it wasn't what I'd call smart."  
  
Draco's voice and facial expression were carefully neutral, "What ever gave you the idea that I have ever worked for Voldemort?"  
  
"You know Malfoy, you really haven't been very subtle lately," said Harry patiently, "Are you sure you aren't losing your edge? Every one knows that the new Master Malfoy betrayed Voldemort and you being here at all says without question that you are the new Master Malfoy. Why don't you stop lying to me, Malfoy? You can't hide the truth for ever."  
  
"Yes, Potter," replied Draco in an empty voice, "I can." The door closed and Harry was suddenly alone. After a moment, he sighed with frustration and went off in search of Hermione. Harry could only hope that she could throw some light on this whole situation.  
  
***  
  
Draco ran his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time as he sat with the journal open in front of him. Again, he pondered the situation at hand. It was bad, he had pissed Voldemort off, and Draco knew that better than anyone else. What's more, he was publicly declaring his support for Dumbledore by being at Hogwarts.  
  
He was a God Slayer, he knew that now, and he knew his destiny was to kill Voldemort or die in the attempt. The other God Slayer was also painfully clear to him, who else could it be but Harry Potter? Draco's laugh was just a little hysterical, Harry who survived each encounter he'd ever had with the Dark Lord by pure luck alone. Harry whose luck could not hold forever, what would happen to Draco when Harry's luck finally ran out? Picking up a quill, Draco began his letter to Artemis.  
  
***  
End  
  
Yes, I know, this chapter is mostly about Draco, and for all you Harry  
fans out there, I'm sorry, but I promise that the next few chapters  
will have more to do with Hogwarts' Golden Boy. I think I'll keep  
posting short chapters for the next few weeks, I really don't know. I  
have the manuscript of this Fic in a notebook that I carry around but  
the version I have in there, while it's eons ahead of what's online  
right now, is more like an outline than a real Fic. Shrugs*  
  
To Miss Lesley: I'm glad you like my writing so much! Yeah, I know,  
Dumbledore can be really annoying sometimes and I'm sorry to say that  
he's going to be mostly good in this Fic. Bear with me though,  
because he does do something later that really pisses Draco off  
royally. Er, you'll just have to wait and see, k? ^_^ ()  
  
Thanks also to Kiocci and RikuNghts for reviewing. Sorry I didn't  
have time to get back to you until now. Smiles sheepishly* But I am  
really happy that all of you enjoyed chapter 2 so much, since I was  
really scared if it was going to be a satisfactory follow up to  
chapter 1. 


	4. Beginnings

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this story and I'm not making a profit from this, so don't sue me. May contain vague references to Greek mythology, Anne Bishop, and Anita Blake.  
  
Author's Random Ramblings: I had some extra time so I decided to post this chapter now. Ahhh, how I love the first week of the semester. No teachers on your back, no tests, new classes to slack in, lol. Oh, if any of you still haven't seen The Return of the King, I'd recommend seeing it. It's a wonderful movie, and let's face it, the Harry Potter movies really weren't that great. After seeing the trailer for PoA, I think I'll be hiding under my bed, whimpering when THAT particular nightmare comes out. What's with Draco's new look? Why do the dementors have skeletal hands? What's up with the chorus holding toads? Wails pitifully* Chris Columbus was a better director than this idiot they have directing now, and that's saying a lot.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Artemis opened her eyes and smiled as Apollo kissed her gently on the lips. Artemis ran her fingers through his thick mane of golden curls. "It has been a long time," said Artemis bitterly, "Why have you come?"  
  
"I love you Artemis," whispered Apollo intimately, "I loved you more than I have ever loved any of the others."  
  
"That's not the reason you are here though," said Artemis, "There is something you want, what is it?"  
  
Apollo sighed, "Look around you. We are back on Mount Olympus. We could be truly happy again, like we were once. If you would only let go and follow your heart."  
  
"The last time we did that, half the Olympians got killed. Don't play games, Apollo, what's up?"  
  
"I've identified my Heir," said Apollo finally after a long moment of silence. Artemis raised one eyebrow with amusement.  
  
"About time, although I can't say I'm surprised knowing how promiscuous you are. Do you even know how many descendents you have?" asked Artemis with a smile, "So, who is it?"  
  
"It's Harry Potter," whispered Apollo, "Harry Potter is the other God Slayer."  
  
Artemis was silent for a moment, finally she asked in a small voice, "Are you sure?"  
  
Apollo's laugh was just a little hysterical, "The prophecy, the scar, the fact that he has escaped death so many times, of course I'm sure!"  
  
"Sibyl has very little divination power, she could have made a mistake," pointed out Artemis reasonably.  
  
"I am the High Priest of the Fates!" said Apollo coldly; "I think I'd be able to tell a real prophecy from a fake one!"  
  
"But the boy possesses none of your divination powers!" exclaimed Artemis, "How can he be the Heir of the High Priest of the Fates?"  
  
"He has some divination talent," said Apollo defensively, "Only enough to get a hunch now and again, but he has some! Besides, he wields another power, Hades found out that Harry is a necromancer."  
  
Artemis leaned back against the pillows, "Maybe new talents are now needed to destroy Zeus in this form. Voldemort took steps to prevent a natural death. Zeus never did because he didn't think anyone would ever be foolish enough to try to kill him. Harry's necromancy might not be a bad thing."  
  
"I took the Dark Arts job at Hogwarts," said Apollo, "It'll get me closer to Harry. Close enough to find out his true powers for myself."  
  
"Apollo, just because Harry can't control the Fates does not mean he cannot defeat Voldemort," reasoned Artemis, "There are some things that even the Fates cannot control. We are no longer the Gold Slayers and can do nothing to change the situation but to guide our respective Heirs."  
  
"I know that, Artemis," replied Apollo, "I also contacted Dumbledore and told him what I know. I cannot teach Harry necromancy, but maybe Dumbledore will convince Hades to do so."  
  
"I wouldn't bet on it. These days, I just don't think Hades cares anymore what happens to the Olympic line. He would never agree to teach Harry."  
  
Apollo sighed, "I know, Artemis. The time of the Olympians is over. I fear that what few of us are left will not be around to guide the next God Slayers to Their destinies."  
  
"It is a risk we all took when we left the haven of Olympus," replied Artemis sadly, "I do not fear death anymore. I fear only life, as it has been this past millennium. It is all I can do to drink the ambrosia that keeps us alive past our time. I go on, but the flame that made life worth living has burned out and the days seem but like a long nightmare of which I cannot perceive the end. No, it is not death I fear, but life."  
  
Apollo's face filled with gentle regret as he stared into his sister's eyes, "Wind to thy wings, my sister. This shall not be the last time our paths cross."  
  
The world disappeared in a swirl of color and Artemis woke, shaking, in her bed at the inn. Slipping on a robe, Artemis stepped out onto the balcony. A tear fell silently down her cheek, burying her head in her hands; Artemis cried for that which she could not save.  
  
***  
  
Voldemort stared broodingly into the dark liquid in the wine glass. Raising it to his mouth, he drank it down in one gulp.  
  
The man across from him smiled, flashing fangs, "It gets cold so quickly, does it not, my Lord?"  
  
"Sadly, yes," sighed Voldemort as he turned his brooding red eyes to his companion, "You should try some blood wine sometimes. The taste is just as good if not as strong, Lord Liam."  
  
"I am a Vampire," replied Liam, "I prefer my blood fresh from the open vein of a dying victim."  
  
"Yes, that was always your way, wasn't it?" asked Voldemort with a humorless smile that looked more like a leer on his pale, snake like face, "That is how you earned your namesake, Morte d'Amour, the Lover of Death. Join with me and I can provide you and your people with fresh victims every night. Together, we shall be unstoppable!"  
  
"And how do I know that you shall keep up your end of the bargain?" asked Liam cautiously, "Fifteen years ago, the Vampires were caught off guard by your sudden demise. Many of us were hunted down by Aurors and killed. I cannot risk another blood bath like that again."  
  
"And you shall not have to, Lord Liam," hissed Voldemort angrily, "Even now, my Death Eaters search for the last of the Olympians. We shall find them and through their Philosopher's Stone, immortality shall be ours."  
  
"Your offer of immortality does not tempt me," said Liam coldly, "I have wandered this earth since before the time of the Olympians. In Egypt, five thousand years ago, I was born and now I am the Master of the Vampire Council, the Lord of all Vampires. I do not fear death."  
  
"What do you want then, Liam?" asked Voldemort, his red eyes shining brightly, "If it is in my power, I shall grant it."  
  
"I want my own land to rule, a country," said Liam, "As Master of the Vampire Council, I hold sway over all Vampires. I would rule over my own lands. Give me France, Voldemort, and I shall be content."  
  
"Give me the strength of the legendary Vampires and you shall have France when the war is over."  
  
"We have a deal then?" asked Liam cautiously.  
  
"Yes, Lord Liam, we have a deal," answered Voldemort, a self satisfied smile playing on his snakelike face.  
  
***  
  
Apollo sighed with disgust as he surveyed the dingy shack in which his uncle Hades was now living. Cold, morning light shone into the small room from the only window above the bed. Here and there, books were carelessly strewn on the floor and in stacks on the small bookshelf. A small wood stove in the corner was used for cooking as well as warmth. A dark, cherry wood desk was placed opposite the bed.  
  
"Will you not go with me to Scotland, uncle?" pleaded Apollo, "There is nothing for you here and you could start over. Get a teaching job at Hogwarts like I did, perhaps."  
  
"If there is nothing for me here, then there's nothing at all, nephew," answered Hades tiredly, "This is my life now."  
  
"But it doesn't have to be!" protested Apollo hotly, "You have wealth beyond counting and can live in the finest of palaces! Why do you still linger in this shack of yours on the outskirts of Paris?"  
  
"Because I am at peace here," explained Hades, "Look at this cottage, no one even knows it exists! Here I can rest and be at peace with the world. I am happy here, Apollo. Besides, of all the Olympians, only four of us are left now. We would make a pretty target if we all showed up in Scotland all at once."  
  
"What of the boy, Harry?" asked Apollo, "Will you not teach him like I have asked?"  
  
"I have no quarrel with the Heir of Zeus, is not my blood he is after," said Hades cautiously, "I shall not begin one by aiding your Heir."  
  
"I fear Voldemort shall not let you remain neutral," said Apollo sadly, "This is a war where no one can be neutral."  
  
"Zeus and I were brothers, equal in strength," replied Hades haughtily, "If he could not make me take sides, then I highly doubt his Heir can."  
  
Hades turned away from Apollo and sat down at his desk, "Leave me Apollo, go where you will, but leave me to my path."  
  
The door closed silently and Hades was suddenly alone. Had he made the right choice? For once, Hades did not know. But he hoped to the gods that he did. His fate and the fate of the entire wizarding world might have been riding on that one decision.  
  
***  
  
"Parry, parry thrust!" instructed Draco scrupulously as he and Harry fenced, "Now, if I thrust upward, how do you parry?" Draco moved fast, blade flashing in the early morning sunlight that flowed through the window. Harry danced back in surprise and fell against the wall, caught off balance by Draco's attack. Draco frowned.  
  
"If this had been a real duel, you would be dead!" scolded Draco gently, "Now come on, get up!"  
  
Harry groaned, "Can't we take a little break? We've been going at it for hours." Draco smiled and lifted an eyebrow in amusement.  
  
"Tired?" asked Draco, "I guess we can take a little break." Draco dropped to the floor beside Harry and took out two bottles of butter beer.  
  
"You know, you're kind of nice sometimes," remarked Harry as he took a bottle from Draco's hand, "I never thought I'd say it but you're not a bad kid."  
  
"Same here," replied Draco lightly, "It's funny, I've hated you since that first day when you turned my friendship down. I was embarrassed and angry that you made me look bad in front of all those people. When I was made a prefect, I wanted revenge and in a way, I did get my revenge on you, but it didn't feel good at all."  
  
"It didn't?" asked Harry bitterly, "How so? You know, sometimes, I think that if it were me, I would have enjoyed it more than anything in the world to see you suffer." Draco smiled, "I know, I thought that too. Frankly, I was surprised you weren't made a prefect last year but I guess that's changed. I guess getting you in trouble didn't feel good because, in the end, what was the point of it all? Revenge just wasn't fun anymore, and you just acted like you didn't care at all what I did. That, more than anything else, ruined it for me."  
  
"I did care," answered Harry wonderingly, "I cared more than you could ever guess, I just didn't show it, that's all. I hate to say this, but if you weren't there, being a total ass, Hogwarts would have been different somehow; I would have missed you in my own way. Rivalry is a funny thing, isn't it?"  
  
Draco took a long sip of butter beer, "You could say that. You know, you were the only real mystery, ever. Everyone else, all the Slytherins and Gryffindors and the rest, I understood them all. Now you, I just don't get. I guess it's because we're so much alike."  
  
"I could say the same for you," replied Harry with a smile, "I thought I had you all figured out by the end of first year and now I find you are this whole new person. Are you ever going to tell me about who you really are and what the hell is going on between you and Dumbledore? He didn't invite you here just because of me, I'm sure."  
  
"You know I'm not going to tell you even if I, myself, knew," replied Draco, "Hey Harry, you know about that trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow? Could you meet me at Madam Malkin's around noon? I've got something to show you."  
  
Harry frowned but nodded, "Sure. You know, we should try and do this a bit after school starts. I know we'll both be busy but it can be so relaxing just hang out like this. It's actually fun to be around you when you're not being a pain in the ass."  
  
Draco stared at him in surprise, "You aren't scared what people would think? Harry Potter and his archenemy, Draco Malfoy, hanging out together?"  
  
Harry smiled, "Well put it that way, I guess I am afraid of what people would think but I meant we could be friends in secret instead of enemies. You'll always be my rival Draco. You're the only one I actually strive to be better than and you know it, but even rivals can be friends."  
  
Draco smiled suddenly, "Agreed then."  
  
***  
  
"Hey Harry," asked Ginny curiously, "Is Dumbledore going to let you go to Diagon Alley with us?"  
  
Harry smiled, "From my understanding, yes, I'm allowed to go." "I still don't think you should," remarked Hermione disapprovingly, "It might be dangerous you know."  
  
Ron sighed with exasperation, "Hermione, we're only going to Diagon Alley, what could possible happen?"  
  
"Hey you guys, stop arguing!" said Harry before Hermione could retort, "I'll be fine Hermione."  
  
"I hope Malfoy isn't coming," said Ginny darkly, "Although it would be just like him, to ruin the trip."  
  
"Hey, Dr-, I mean Malfoy isn't all that bad, he's actually quite nice after you get to know him!" said Harry defensively, "If you spent any of the last two weeks with him, you would know!"  
  
Ron stared at him in disbelief, "Don't tell me you've been spending all that time you were gone with Malfoy? What the hell's going on anyways, Harry?"  
  
"So what if I have?" asked Harry defiantly, "It's not like it's any of your freaking business anyways!"  
  
"Harry, are you mad?" asked Ron furiously, "This is Malfoy we're talking about! Malfoy who has done nothing but made our lives miserable for the past five years! Why the hell are you hanging out with him? Sometimes, I just don't understand you at all!" Harry turned away and stared broodingly out the window, "Sometimes, I don't understand myself."  
  
***  
  
End  
  
P.S. Yeah, I know this chapter is REALLY short. So sorry about that. ^_^() This is an inbetween chapter that sets the scene for what's coming up in the next three chapters at least. Um, what to say, It might take me awhile to post next week. I'm working on getting more chapters typed before I post again so I wont be on such a tight schedule anymore. Next chapter, Harry gets a new wardrobe, Things happen, and Apollo shows up big time.  
  
P.P.S. Thanks to Kiocci, RikuNghts, Maxell's-Demon and Argona Taranis for reviewing, I tried to take your suggestions into hand typing this one up. Hope you enjoy the results! 


	5. Of Prophets and Gods

Author's Random Ramblings: Whee! I am v. v. v. happy this week! We had almost the entire week out of school since in NC, we get two inches and it's an automatic crisis. Anyways, it froze over and I was able to go sledding with my friends. It was so fun! Especially since we were even able to go sliding down the main roads, as they were all iced over. Anyways, I'll be spending this weekend recuperating from my many bruises that I have acquired. Yeah, I sort of slid right into a huge cement manhole and then an iron lamppost. It really hurt! On a brighter note, I'm sure many of you will be pleased to know that I have currently finished writing Chapter 9 in my notebook and that I have up through Chapter 7 typed but not edited.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"Hey Harry!" yelled Seamus with a grin as Harry stepped out of Flourish and Blotts, a parcel of books in his hands. Smiling, Harry hurried over to where Seamus, Dean, and Ginny were standing.  
  
"Hey guys!" said a breathless Harry, "You're here too?"  
  
"You bet!" said Dean with a smile, "Hey, anyone want to check out Fred and George's new store? I hear they've got some cool stuff!"  
  
Ginny's eyes brightened with excitement, "Ooh, Let's go! Coming Harry?"  
  
Harry shook his head regretfully, "I'll be along but I have to go to Madam Malkin's first."  
  
Ginny shrugged, "Your loss. Come on guys, let's go!"  
  
Harry watched as Ginny, Seamus, and Dean ran off into the distance. Sighing, Harry stepped into the dusty store and found Draco already waiting for him, a rack of robes at his side.  
  
"Alright, I'm here," said Harry awkwardly, "Now what?"  
  
Draco's smile widened, "You're late. Come on Potter, we've got to get to work." Harry frowned, "What do you mean, Malfoy?"  
  
"We are going to pick out a new wardrobe for you," said Draco reasonably, "Look at you, wearing all those ragged castoffs. How could anyone believe you are the famous Harry Potter?"  
  
"What's wrong with my clothes?" asked Harry defensively, "You don't see me complaining about your wardrobe so lay off!"  
  
"That's because I have taste, Potter," snorted Draco disdainfully, "Look at your outfit. That t-shirt was made for someone ten times your size and those khakis are wrinkled and the knees are worn through!"  
  
Harry looked down self-consciously, "Why are you doing this, Draco?"  
  
Draco's expression softened and the arrogant mask melted away, "I never thought I'd say this, Harry, but you're beginning to grow on me. You aren't a bad kid and I do care about the way you look. Now get the hell into that fitting room!"  
  
***  
  
Half an hour later, Harry left the store, wearied but loaded with packages. Malfoy, to Harry's surprise had good fashion sense and hadn't picked anything too outrageous for Harry to wear. Even more to Harry's surprise, Malfoy had insisted on paying for the whole, mad venture. Harry shook his head, ah well; it wasn't like he cared what Malfoy did with his own money.  
  
"Harry!" Draco yelled, "Behind you!" Harry whipped around, wand in hand, but it was two late, the masked Death Eater had already begun to cast a spell.  
  
"EXPELLIARMUS!" roared Draco and the Death Eater's wand flew out of his hand, knocking the man down. Harry cursed loudly and grabbed the fallen wand. Two other masked Death Eaters ran out of the shadows and rushed towards Harry and Draco. Draco raised his wand but the Death Eater was faster, "Crucio!" Draco screamed and fell to his knees, writhing in pain.  
  
"Stupefy!" yelled Harry and his spell hit the other death eater square in the chest. Draco crawled to his feet and grabbed his own wand. A steel blade flashed in the Death Eater's hands. There was no time; Draco was going to die unless Harry could do something, but what?  
  
Harry raised his hand out to Draco. "NO!" he screamed. Ice-cold power flowed through Harry's veins, leaving him chilled to the bone. Harry screamed in pain as dark, bluebell flames shot out of his fingers, hitting the Death Eater in the chest. The man screamed and crumpled in a pile next to Draco.  
  
The Death Eater Draco had disarmed grabbed the knife beside his fallen comrade and brought it down to stab Draco. Frantically, Draco scrambled out of the way and tried to get his wand ready. The knife flashed again and neatly knocked the wand out of Draco's hands. Desperately, Harry tried to summon the power he'd had when he knocked out the other Death Eater, but it wouldn't come.  
  
Suddenly, a clear voice cried out, "Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!" The Death Eater was knocked off his feet and thrown up against the brick wall. Harry crawled over to Draco and knelt over him, checking for a pulse. Draco smiled weakly. Harry looked up to see their rescuer.  
  
The man had a shining mane of soft, gold curls that fell down his back. He had beautiful dark blue eyes and a face that was more beautiful than handsome. He was tall and well built in a graceful, muscular way.  
  
He held out a hand to help Harry and Draco up. I'm Apollo," smiled the man warmly, "Phoebus Apollo. And you are no doubt Harry Potter, I am your Dark Arts teacher this year."  
  
"Th-thanks," gasped Harry weakly, "you saved his life!" Apollo shrugged gracefully and helped Harry and Draco up.  
  
"It was nothing," he replied.  
  
"Oh Harry!" cried Mrs. Weasley in a hysterical voice as she hugged Harry tightly, "You're okay!" Behind her trailed Moody, Tonks, Lupin, the Weasley children, Hermione, and a crowd of Aurors.  
  
"What happened?" growled Moody, "We heard screams and detected an Unforgivable Curse so we came to investigate."  
  
Draco turned and shook off Crabbe and Goyle who had also come running and was now supporting Draco between them. Crabbe moved away but still held tightly on to Draco's arm, steadying him. Goyle took one step back and crossed his arms; hiding the wand he inevitably had out, in good, bodyguard position. "They attacked Harry and when I tried to warn him, they also came after me," gasped Draco.  
  
Ron stepped up, and shot Draco a furious look, "I don't believe him! What the hell were you doing with Harry anyways, Malfoy? You can't expect he's innocent, his father's a Death Eater, arrest him!"  
  
Mrs. Weasley frowned at Ron, "Ron! Stay out of this!" Ron opened his mouth to protest but Lupin and Tonks held him back.  
  
Moody turned to glare at Draco, "Malfoy, eh? A bad bunch, the lot of them, but we'll see if you're telling the truth, boy." Draco met Moody's glare evenly. "Stop it!" said Harry furiously, "Don't you see, he saved my life! Those men attacked us and Draco saved my life!"  
  
Moody frowned, "We'll see soon enough. Men, take these boys to the Ministry and get these men into St. Mungo's Criminal Ward. I want them under the highest security, you got that?"  
  
Strong hands seized Draco's shoulders pushing Crabbe and Goyle away. Silently, they escorted him and Harry through the door of a small, run down store that Draco had never noticed before on his frequent trips to Diagon Alley. Quickly, they were led through the back door and down into the basement where to their surprise, there was a lift.  
  
"Level 2, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said the Auror who had a hold of Draco's left shoulder. Immediately, the lift began its silent descent, a moment later, they stepped out into a carpeted hallway. Swiftly, they were led through a side door and into an Interrogation Room much like the ones Muggle policemen use today except for the fact that the room was protected by several layers of magical wards, effectively cutting off any chance of escape.  
  
"Are you okay?" asked Harry timidly as the door closed behind them and they were left alone.  
  
Draco smiled ruefully, "Yes, thanks to you. What do you think they're going to do?"  
  
Harry shrugged, "We were acting out of self defense, the law is on our side. Don't worry Draco; Dumbledore will get us out in no time. I bet Moody just took us here because he had no other choice."  
  
"Do you know how many people would love to see me in Azkaban?" asked Draco emptily, "I don't just mean Ron, my father had a lot of enemies, and many of them would do anything to see me killed or put away for the rest of my life."  
  
"Don't worry, Dumbledore wont let anything happen to either of us," said Harry reassuringly, "What happened back there anyways? Who were they really after?" Draco stared blankly at the white walls of the room, "I don't know. All I know was that when I saw the Death Eater coming out of the back street right at you and I had to warn you. The rest was a blur. We were lucky those Death Eaters were rookies, probably just recruited, otherwise we would be dead."  
  
Harry nodded wearily, "I wondered that they would dare attack us on a public street like Diagon Alley."  
  
"What are we going to tell the Ministry?" asked Draco curiously, as he took a seat at one of the chairs set out behind the long, narrow interrogation table.  
  
"It's not like we have anything to hide," shrugged Harry nonchalantly, "We were attacked and fought back in self defense."  
  
"Your friends are going to ask a lot of questions, you know," remarked Draco, "I don't mean the Aurors; I mean Weasley and Granger. They will both want to what the hell happened. School starts in three days, what are we going to do? Are we just going to pretend we are still enemies?"  
  
"I don't see how we cannot tell anyone that we're friends now," replied Harry moodily, "I can't hide things from Ron and Hermione for much longer, nor do I want to. They are my friends, Draco."  
  
"Do you have any idea what would happen to me in Slytherin once everyone finds out about us?" asked Draco gently, "I'm already in trouble Harry. I've betrayed Voldemort, the only two people I trust now in that entire House are Crabbe and Goyle. I'm not saying don't tell your friends, I just want to know that they can keep a secret. I don't want this to be public knowledge yet, do you get my drift?"  
  
Harry nodded solemnly, "I understand, don't worry, Ron and Hermione are completely trustworthy. You know, you should really try to get to know them better. I think that they'll like you as long as you aren't the big prat you were before."  
  
Draco was just about to reply to that when the door opened and Tonks stepped in. "Sorry if I'm interrupting," she began, "but Moody wants to see you now, Draco." Gracefully, Draco rose from his chair and followed Tonks out the door without another word.  
  
***  
  
An hour later, Harry sat across from Fudge in his office, waiting expectantly. "Hi Harry," began Fudge nervously, "I have just read your report and everything seems in order, it seems a pretty clear cut case for self defense. I just wanted to ask you, did you know that one of the Death Eater's who attacked you and young Master Malfoy is dead? We just got the report back from St. Mungo's a few minutes ago. There is no explanation for the death; only that he was dead when they found you in Diagon Alley. It seems like his heart just failed unexpectedly. It could be just a natural death, but under the circumstances, I have to ask you about it."  
  
Harry shook his head genuinely confused, "I have no idea, Minister. I really don't."  
  
Fudge sighed with disappointment, "Ah well, it doesn't matter now. You might have to come back in for another hearing but we'll try to work something out.  
  
Harry sighed with relief, "Thank you Minister."  
  
Fudge smiled suddenly, "You were lucky that those three Death Eaters were relatively inexperienced. Otherwise, you might have been, well let's just say not with us anymore."  
  
Harry smiled wanly, "I always seem to have the closest brushes with death.  
  
Fudge looked away uncomfortably, "Well then, Nymphadora will escort you back to Hogwarts. I am sure that Dumbledore is just dying to know about what happened." Fudge's lips twitched in a bitter, ironic smile but didn't say anything more as Tonks led Harry out the door.  
  
***  
  
Draco was already seated by the time Harry made it to Dumbledore's office. He felt tired suddenly and wished that he were back in the Gryffindor Common Room. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped into the now familiar office. At once, he recognized the man standing beside Dumbledore, Harry froze; it was the same mysterious man who had rescued them. Harry glanced at Draco; silently he opened the door between their minds and asked, "What's going on?"  
  
At once, an annoyed voice echoed through his head, "How should I know, we've been waiting for you, hurry up, and stop staring at me." Abruptly, Harry looked away from Draco and took a seat across from Dumbledore, carefully looking away from his eyes.  
  
"Harry," began Dumbledore with a gentle smile, I wonder if you could please explain to me what happened in Diagon Alley today. I've already heard the story from Professor Phoebus and Draco, but I would like to hear it from you?" Harry glanced curiously at the man Dumbledore had referred to as Professor Phoebus.  
  
Dumbledore followed Harry's gaze, "Ah, yes, I have forgotten to introduced you, haven't I? Forgive me, Harry, I am a little scattered brained of late. This is Professor Phoebus; he is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor who just arrived this morning from Paris. It was very lucky that he found you two after he left the Floo Station, otherwise, you guys might be dead." Harry smiled shyly at Professor Phoebus and Draco glanced at him curiously.  
  
"Thank you, Professor," said Harry graciously, "I appreciate it."  
  
"It was my pleasure, Harry," replied Professor Phoebus with a slight smile, "After all, how could I not interfere?"  
  
"Now Harry, would you like to tell me your story?" asked Professor Dumbledore gently. Harry met Dumbledore's eyes for a moment before quickly looking down again. In an empty voice, Harry began to describe to Dumbledore exactly what had happened in Diagon Alley and afterwards when they had been taken to the Ministry. Finally he was finished. For a moment, the room was dead silent.  
  
At last Dumbledore said, "I guess you are right, Professor Phoebus. I didn't want to believe it, but now." Harry frowned as he looked from Dumbledore to Professor Phoebus.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Harry curiously, "What didn't you want to believe?"  
  
"It has something to do with that damned Prophecy, doesn't it?" said Draco finally; "Artemis said something about the heir of Apollo." Draco looked straight into Professor Phoebus' eyes as he said that last part; Professor Phoebus flinched and looked away nervously. Draco then turned that calm, icy gaze on Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"I think Harry should hear this from me, if you please, Professor," said Draco calmly, "After all, it is my story to tell." Dumbledore nodded gravely. Draco sighed and steepled his fingers in a businesslike manner, in a calm collected voice, he began to tell the story of his meeting with Artemis and what he had learned from it.  
  
"The point is, Harry," finished Draco patiently, "is that I think you are the heir of Apollo. Which means we are going to be the instruments of Lord Voldemort's downfall."  
  
"There was another prophecy," said Harry slowly, "One that was made about me. It says that I'm supposed to destroy Voldemort, can both of them be true?"  
  
"Yes," spoke Professor Phoebus suddenly, "The other prophecy could be considered an addition to the one Draco talked about. You see, Harry, divination is a very imprecise art if you don't understand it. What we have here is a case of an unfinished prophecy. The one Draco heard was made two thousands years ago by the Fates, but it was not complete. Your prophecy happens to help complete the other one."  
  
"How do you know so much, Professor?" asked Harry suspiciously.  
  
Apollo looked away uncomfortably, "From Draco's prophecy you learned that he is the heir of Artemis and that she came to find him. Did it ever occur to you that Apollo might be alive as well?"  
  
"I was wondering about that part," admitted Harry, "But how does that answer my question?"  
  
"I am Apollo, the High Priest of the Fates, I told you in the alleyway, have you forgotten?" said Apollo gently, "I have been searching for you ever since Voldemort first appeared. I guess I should have figured out long ago that you were my heir but I just couldn't accept the inevitable until Dumbledore contacted me this summer to tell me about that other prophecy."  
  
"You are Apollo?" whispered Harry, "How did you live so long when you are supposed to be dead if you are truly human?"  
  
Apollo smiled mysteriously, "Ambrosia some call it, or the Elixir of Life. It grants immortality to the drinker. History tells you that the Olympians were a coven of powerful wizards that set themselves up as gods. What history leaves out is that we also possessed the Philosopher's Stone. We were truly gods in every sense of the word."  
  
"So you are the other twin," said Draco, "I thought you were when I first came in, but I didn't know for sure. Artemis wrote much about you in her journals."  
  
"Yes, we were very close," answered Apollo with a sigh, "Alas, Artemis has grown distant and cold, even from me. But to return to Harry, I have something to tell you. Fudge told you that one of your attackers died. You killed him."  
  
Harry froze with shock, "What? How could I? What do you mean?"  
  
"My power is in Divination as Draco and Artemis' power is in nature," explained Apollo, "One of the reasons I didn't believe you were my heir was because you have no talent in divination whatsoever. However, you have a greater gift, you are a necromancer. You can pierce the veil between life and death and when you felt that rush of power and saw those flames in your fight, that was your necromancy awakening for the first time."  
  
"I didn't mean to kill him!" whispered Harry in a horrified voice, "No, you're wrong, I can't be a necromancer! If I was Sirius wouldn't be dead!" Harry bolted for the door and Draco rushed after him. Apollo moved to follow but Dumbledore held up his hand, stopping Apollo in mid stride.  
  
"Let him go, Apollo," said Dumbledore wearily, "He has had a tough day."  
  
***  
  
Draco found Harry huddled in a corner of the Room of Requirement. He took a seat beside Harry and leaned back against the wall with a sigh. After a moment, Draco spoke, "That was the first time you've ever had to kill, wasn't it? I'm sorry, if I had been stronger, maybe you wouldn't have come to this."  
  
Harry looked up and Draco could see silent tears slipping rebelliously down Harry's cheeks, "I didn't mean it."  
  
Draco was silent for a moment before he spoke, "I was twelve years old when my father and I were attacked on our way home from London. We fought off and killed our attackers and I cried then. Later on, my mother said that to kill someone, even a stranger, kills a small part of your heart. Don't become like me, Harry. I like you because you have a heart, a conscience. I only have a big, gaping hole where my conscience should have been. It scares the shit out of me sometimes."  
  
"Don't you see, Draco," cried Harry desperately, "I already am a monster. When I killed that man, I felt nothing, nothing at all."  
  
Draco sighed, "You didn't know you killed him and now that you do know, you do feel something don't you?"  
  
"But I did," whispered Harry, "I knew in some small part of my heart what had happened and I felt nothing but cool satisfaction at what I had done. Who am I, Draco?"  
  
Suddenly Draco kissed Harry softly on the lips, making Harry stare at him with surprise. Suddenly, Harry was on top of him and they were kissing passionately. Draco ran his slender fingers up and down Harry's back as he left a trail of butterfly kisses down Harry's neck. Their mouths' met again and Harry felt his tongue dance with Draco's. Draco pulled back first, gasping for air.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," whispered Draco as he stumbled to his feet, "Forget what happened, my head was screwed up over the fight and I wasn't thinking clearly." Draco stumbled quickly to his feet and raced out into the hallway.  
  
***  
  
Harry stared at the open door, letting what just happened slowly sink in. He had let Draco kiss him; even kissed Draco back and yet had not been completely disgusted by it. Harry shuddered as he remembered the feel of those soft, satiny lips against his own. He rested his head against his arm and thought seriously, for the first time in the past two weeks about his developing relationship with Draco. Harry hated to admit it, but he had spent almost the entire two weeks with Draco. They had fenced together, studied together, even talked. He'd barely even noticed Ron and Hermione at all anymore. What was wrong with him?  
  
"Harry?" asked a voice tentatively. Harry's head snapped up and he watched with growing disbelief and horror as Hermione took off his Invisibility cloak.  
  
"Hermione!" gasped Harry in a strangled voice.  
  
***  
  
Draco ran blindly through the empty halls. Opening the door to the boy's bathroom, Draco stumbled in and turned on the faucet. Splashing his face with cool water, he washed his hands. Draco leaned his forehead against the cool surface of the mirror. Calm down, he told himself, think, what just happened? He had just kissed Harry Potter! The thought swirled in his head until Draco could not ignore it anymore. What would his family think if this ever got out? The Master Malfoy having a snog session with Harry Potter, he'd be excommunicated for sure! And yet Draco had enjoyed it. He wanted, no needed, to feel Harry's lips against his own again. Draco buried his face in his hands. He had to calm down, to think, it was just a kiss, right? It meant nothing, he hadn't been thinking clearly. But try as he might, Draco couldn't convince himself that he didn't care.  
  
***  
  
End  
  
Ah, happy, happy day! Their first kiss! Or rather first real kiss, not including the dream ones here. Frown* Do you think it might be just a little bit rushed? I was worried about that when I first wrote it. Tell me what you think in your reviews. If need be, I shall change it. Also, I have another question. I know I rely mostly on dialogue to get my points across, but would you rather have me write in less dialogue and more just descriptions of what the characters are thinking? Have I stayed pretty much in character throughout the story to this point? I really want to know what YOU think right now.  
  
Thanks to Kiocci, RikuNghts, and the usual gang who reviewed. I really appreciate the support! ^_~ 


	6. Confessions of a Troubled Mind

Author's Random Ramblings: Sorry this chapter took so long to get posted. I had it finished a week ago but delayed on sending it to my beta, so thanks Steph for doing this on such short notice. Since this chapter is like the twice the length of my others, despite the fact very little happens (I think) I'm not going to post next week. This is also partly due to my realizing I'm only on chapter eight in my notebook although it feels like the notebook is eons ahead. Since it takes so much work to translate my handwriting into something legible, send it to a beta, and then proofread it again myself, I'm going to spend almost all of next weekend (and any time I get in between) writing.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
"Hermione!" gasped Harry what are you doing here?"  
  
Hermione looked down nervously, "I'm sorry, Harry, I was worried about you so I waited outside Dumbledore's office."  
  
Harry stared at her with disbelief, "You followed me here? What the hell did you think you were doing?"  
  
Hermione blushed, "I was worried about you! We all were, especially after you were taken away by the Ministry and all that, please Harry, don't be angry!"  
  
"Why didn't you take off the invisibility cloak?" demanded Harry furiously, "I didn't even know you were here!"  
  
"I was going to," said Hermione quietly, "Until Draco Malfoy showed up. Why were you snogging Malfoy? Why was Malfoy even here in the first place?"  
  
"It's none of your business, Hermione!" snarled Harry angrily, "Just leave me alone, will you?"  
  
Hermione frowned, "Yes Harry, it is. These past couple of weeks you've practically ignored everyone's existence! Your as snappy as hell and have been unaccountably rude every time we so much as talk to you!"  
  
Harry sighed, "You wouldn't understand even if I told you." Hermione suddenly slapped Harry across the cheek, Harry's eyes snapped up in surprise.  
  
"Of course we don't understand right now, but have you ever wondered why that's the case?" asked Hermione scathingly, "It's because you won't tell us anything. You've been holed up with Malfoy for the past two weeks and, sometimes, you don't even talk to Ron! We're your best friends, enlighten us on what the hell is going on!"  
  
"Do you believe in fate, Hermione?" asked Harry hollowly, "That sometimes two people were just meant to be together?"  
  
Hermione smiled dryly, "I do believe in fate but I highly doubt you and Malfoy were meant for each other."  
  
Harry smiled humorlessly, "He has a first name you know, and I don't just think Draco and I are meant to be together, I know we are. Don't you see Hermione, every time I look at him; my body goes tight in some very interesting places. Everything he says or does, I have an extreme reaction to. I love him, I don't know why or even how I could love him, but I do!"  
  
Hermione stared for a moment, "Explain."  
  
Quickly, as if pouring out all his emotions, Harry told her everything that had been happening in the past month. When he was finished, the room was completely silent.  
  
"Are you angry at me?" asked Harry cautiously.  
  
Hermione sighed, "No Harry, not angry, I want to be. I don't think you can ever understand how much I want to just slap Malfoy in the face right now and tell him to leave you alone, but I can't. It's not your fault that you like him and it's not his fault either."  
  
"I'm sorry Hermione," whispered Harry softly.  
  
"Don't be," she replied shortly. The silence between them stretched had become almost unbearable until finally, Hermione managed to say in an amused voice, "I can't believe this! Hogwarts' two most eligible bachelors have fallen for each other!"  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Harry in a confused, but relieved, voice.  
  
Hermione just stared at him. "You really don't know, do you, Harry?" asked Hermione wonderingly.  
  
Harry's frown was genuinely puzzled, "What don't I know?"  
  
Hermione sighed unhappily, "I can't believe it; you really have no idea what affect you and Draco have on girls! I mean, you and Draco are the most popular boys in the entire school! Just ask Parvati or Lavender or any girl for that matter! Girls would kill for a date with either of you! I mean come on; you are Harry Potter, the hero who saved the entire wizarding world from destruction. Even if you were ugly or excessively vain, girls would still like you. But you are not, Harry. You are nice, caring, funny, and so heartbreakingly charming! Then there is Draco Malfoy. Despite all that arrogance, even I have to admit he is drop dead gorgeous! Draco, the beautiful ice prince, Hogwart's cover boy. Every girl in the entire school would forgive every bad thing he's ever done if he so much as looks their way! The problem is, he doesn't care and you just don't notice! Neither of you have ever been truly interested in girls at all!"  
  
Harry was silent for a moment. Finally, he asked in a small voice, "What about you, Hermione? Are you only my friend because I'm famous?"  
  
Hermione snorted with disgust, "Don't be silly Harry. You know I'm not like that. I might have been first attracted to you because of your fame and because what I had read about you intrigued me, but, well, I care about you because you are a friend, Harry."  
  
"Harry smiled weakly, "I'm glad you are here with me, Hermione, you always seem to know exactly what to do."  
  
Hermione frowned, a worried look on her face, "I don't know Harry. This time, you might have dug yourself a hole even I can't help you out of. I mean, first off, what do we tell Ron?"  
  
"Why do we have to tell him anything?" asked Harry defensively.  
  
Hermione sighed, "Do you actually think you can hide things from Ron forever. He's your best friend! He deserves to know, probably more than I do."  
  
"I don't know anymore, Hermione," whispered Harry in a heart broken voice, "I don't think I understand anything anymore. It's not just Draco, it's also the Death Eater I killed."  
  
"Don't blame yourself for the past," said Hermione sadly, "There is nothing any of us can do to change it." Hermione paused and then continued; "I suggest that you go talk to Draco when you both cool down a bit. In the mean time, go talk to Professor Phoebus, or Apollo, or whatever you want to call him! Even if he isn't a necromancer, he might be able to teach you the basics so an accident like the one you had in Diagon Alley will not happen again. You'd also better tell Ron what's going on. You know he'll just be mad at you when he does manage to figure it out by himself."  
  
"Alright," agreed Harry, "Now, if you'll excuse me?"  
  
***  
  
Harry pondered Hermione's words as he slowly made his way to the teachers' wing and towards Professor Phoebus' office. Harry hated to admit it, but Hermione had been right about Ron. He just didn't think he had the guts to fess up. Hesitatingly, Harry knocked softly on Professor Phoebus' door. The door immediately swung open and he was admitted into a windowless room with a huge, backwards L-shaped oak desk and a line of bookshelves running across two walls of the room. Brightly painted murals in the old Greco- Roman style covered the rest of the walls and a huge carpet depicting the twins Artemis and Apollo was thrown across the cold stone floor. Huge candlesticks provided a warm glow to the whole scene.  
  
"How may I help you?" asked Professor Phoebus curiously as Harry nervously took a seat in one of the armchairs across from the desk, "I was making lesson plans for the start of term, but I was planning to take a break anyways. Would you like a cup of tea?"  
  
"Please," replied Harry thankfully as he reached out for the proffered teacup, "Professor, I came to apologize for my rude behavior earlier today, I hope you can forgive me."  
  
"Of course Harry," said Professor Phoebus with an absent wave of his hand, "It is nothing. Now, what can I do for you?"  
  
"Well," began Harry uncomfortably, "I was wondering whether you could help me with, well, you know, my necromancy."  
  
Professor Phoebus sighed, "I, myself, am not a necromancer and therein lies the problem. You are my Heir, Harry, and I will try to do the best I can for you, but realize that necromancy is not my line of work, nor do I have any talent for it. Professor Dumbledore and I are trying to find another necromancer to take you under his wing. However, there are only two left in the world. One is my uncle, Hades, formerly known as the Ruler of the Underworld. He has already declined to help you. The other is Osiris, one of only three survivors of the entire Egyptian pantheon. We cannot find him although we are trying are best to locate him. Even now, we have Order of the Phoenix members across the world looking for him. I, myself, can seal the power within you, and teach you to control it if it ever acts up again so no human life is lost, but I cannot teach you finer skills like how to penetrate the Shadowed Veil, or how to converse with spirits who did not remain as ghosts, or even how to use that power to kill in battle. When you killed the Death Eater, it was spontaneous magic and the chances of us replicating that are highly unlikely. I will teach you what I can, but what if something goes wrong and I cannot stop it?"  
  
Harry frowned and pondered that idea for a moment. Finally, he replied, "I understand what you are saying, Professor. However it's a risk we must take. If I do not learn at least how to keep the power from going wild, then I would be a danger to those in Hogwarts. How long will these lessons take me?"  
  
Professor Phoebus smiled, "Not long, school starts in two and a half days, meet me tomorrow morning after breakfast down in the potions dungeon. I'm sure I can persuade Professor Snape to give up his work space for a day or so."  
  
Harry nodded, "That'll be fine. Thank you Professor."  
  
"I'm glad I could help," replied Professor Phoebus smoothly, "See you tomorrow Harry." Harry accepted his dismissal with a slight smile and quickly left the office in search of Hermione.  
  
***  
  
"So you've talked to him?" whispered Hermione as she, Harry, and Ron headed towards the Great Hall for dinner.  
  
"Yes," replied Harry, "Don't worry about it Hermione." Hermione frowned but nodded. A moment later, they walked into the Great Hall, and took their usual seats beside one another. Immediately, Harry searched the table for Draco, but the blonde Slytherin was nowhere to be seen. Harry frowned, since the day he had arrived; Draco had had dinner everyday with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix members in the Great Hall. It was very unusual for him ever to be late for the occasion and, privately, Harry suspected that Draco enjoyed torturing everyone at the table with his overbearing presence and seemingly perfect manners. Even Harry had to admit that it was very entertaining to watch Mr. Weasley stumble through dinner everyday. At least the man was no longer asking him questions about how the Muggle world functioned. Harry scanned the table again, no Crabbe and Goyle either, just what was going on? Just then, Ron turned to him and began a lively conversation about Quidditch. For the rest of dinner, the two of them argued passionately over whether Viktor Krum would be inducted to the Quidditch Hall of Fame this year or not with Hermione adding in a few personal comments of her own.  
  
Soon, Harry even managed to relax. And later that night, the three of them began a game of Exploding Snap that didn't end until one in the morning.  
  
***  
  
Artemis frowned as she read Draco's letter for the third time. So Draco had also found out, or at least guessed, who the Heir of Apollo was. Which made things even trickier considering how the two of them were notorious for being archenemies. Artemis looked up at the calendar. It said August 30. Term begins on September 1, and Artemis could only hope that her work at Hogwarts as the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher and her twin's work as the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher would help softened things between the two boys. If they couldn't learn to work together.Artemis shook her head, she would not think about that. Tiredly, Artemis put the letter down and turned around in her chair to see Pan come in with a letter of his own. Artemis smiled softly at her brother, "Well, did you get the Hogwarts job?"  
  
Pan snorted indignantly, "Of course I did! How could I not, considering just how incompetent the last Games Keeper was? Just look at the things he's done! Taking children into the Forbidden Forest to look for dead unicorns and keeping a giant on school grounds are the least of his transgressions. You are lucky sis, all you have to do is teach. I have to do all the brunt work and, on top of that, my pay's almost as low as a house elf's. " Artemis let out a small laugh of amusement, "Then I guess we're all set! By the way, you should read this." Lazily, Artemis handed Draco's letter to her brother and watched him from the corner of her eye as he read. A minute later, Pan handed the letter back to Artemis with a small chuckle.  
  
"You know, that boy sounds exactly like you did," replied Pan with a smile, "I remember you always complaining about how you hated your brother and all that. Remember that time you commanded me to steal his herd of cows for revenge when he killed your lover, Orion? I still don't understand what happened at the end of that fiasco to make the two of you fall in love. However, I wouldn't worry about Draco if I were you. I'm sure he'll find some way to work with the Potter brat. After all, if you and Apollo could manage to work past the mutual enmity between the two of you, then I'm sure Draco will be just fine. He's a smart kid."  
  
Artemis' eyebrows shot up into her hair, "Do you just realize that you just paid him a compliment?"  
  
Pan snorted, "Of course I did, and I'm not joking. I may say he's hopeless, but that boy. Let's just say that with all my wisdom, if it came down to a fight between me and him, I'm not sure I'd win."  
  
***  
  
"Now Harry," began Professor Phoebus as they stood outside the closed door to the potions room, "I cannot really teach you to control that power through words, you have to learn through practice. I will try to explain as best as I can, though. When you feel that cold power within you, I want you to think of happy things, like you'd do if you were casting a Patronus charm. Then, I want you to push that cold feeling down, not into yourself but the earth. That's the way you ground unused power. You might have realized this before, but if you begin to cast a spell and you are interrupted in the middle of casting it, you automatically return that power into the earth and not, as it seems, into your own body."  
  
Harry frowned, "I never thought about it in that way, but I guess you're right."  
  
Professor Phoebus smiled, "But knowing what to do in theory is not the same as actually doing it. That's why I've devised this system. You will go into that dungeon, I will not. I've created an illusion spell that will show you images from your past, images of your past meetings with Voldemort, images that will trigger your necromancy. Everything you see will seem real and you will not be able to tell that it is an illusion. The purpose is to see if you can control your powers under these stressful situations."  
  
"And what would happen if I cannot control the power?" asked Harry skeptically, "Will it be able to hurt anyone."  
  
Professor Phoebus shook his head; "I put several layers of special shields around the room. If you do lose control, the illusion will dissolve. I suspect that when it does, your powers will fade also. I don't expect you to be able to do this the first time. I don't even expect us to master it today considering how you know practically nothing about this gift and I can only speak of it from an outsider's point of view."  
  
Harry paled but nodded determinedly, "Alright then, let's go." With shaking hands, Harry opened the door and stepped inside. With a click, he heard the door shut behind him and Harry was alone in the dark dungeon. Immediately, the room swirled around him and Harry was thrown off his feet. With a thump, he landed on his back.  
  
Harry groaned, slowly crawled to his feet. Above him, he could see many pillars extending to a ceiling lost in the darkness of the hall. A lavish design of serpents twirled themselves up these pillars and in front of him; Harry could just make out the towering statue of an old wizard with a gaunt face and a long thin beard. Harry's eyes widened, he was in the Chamber of Secrets.  
  
As if entranced, Harry watched a younger version of himself run up to the fallen figure of young Ginny Weasley at the base of the statue. He watched as the young Harry conversed with the memory of Tom Riddle. Cautiously Harry walked up to them but neither Tom Riddle nor his former self seemed to see him. Curiously, Harry reached out to touch the strange apparition. Suddenly, he felt something pull at him, instinctively, Harry fought back but to no avail. Darkness surrounded him, sending him crashing down into the past.  
  
"Dumbledore has been driven out if this castle by the mere memory of me!" hissed Riddle angrily.  
  
"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry felt himself retort. What was going on? Could it be possible? Was he truly facing Tom Riddle again in the Chamber of Secrets? How could it be? Suddenly, Harry heard the unmistakable sound of phoenix song and looked up to see a crimson bird, the size of a swan sweep into view and fly straight at Harry. Gracefully, it dropped a ragged bundle at Harry's feet and landed gently on his shoulder.  
  
"That's a phoenix," remarked Riddle shrewdly as he stared at the bird.  
  
"Fawkes" breathed Harry, almost instinctively as he turned to look at the magnificent bird.  
  
"And that-," said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged thing at Harry's feet, "That's the old school Sorting Hat-"  
  
Riddle let out a triumphant laugh, "That is what Dumbledore sends his defender? A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?"  
  
"To business, Harry," said Riddle, still smiling broadly, "Twice-In your past, in my future-we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."  
  
"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," snarled Harry, "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother! She stopped you from killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul-"  
  
Riddle's face contorted into a mask a fury. His lips twisted into an awful smile, "So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful countercharm. I can see now. There is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike. but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."  
  
"Now Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him. Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of Hogwarts Four."  
  
Harry wheeled around and watched with growing horror as he watched as Salazar Slytherin's mouth opened slowly. Somewhere, in the darkness of that huge, black hole Harry could barely make out something stirring in the depths, something slithering out to meet Harry. Harry slowly backed away until his back met the cold stone of the Chamber wall. Urgently, Harry shut his eyes tight and he felt Fawkes' wing sweep his cheek as he took flight. Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber, sending a soft shudder through the Chamber. Somewhere, in the darkness, Harry heard Riddle's hissing voice, "KILL HIM!"  
  
Harry heard the soft rustling of scales as the basilisk moved slowly towards him. Harry ran, blindly, his hands outstretched to feel the way. Behind him, he could hear Riddle's high-pitched laughter. Harry tripped and fell onto the stone floor. Blood filled his mouth as he tried frantically to get up. The serpent was inches away from him now.  
  
Suddenly, Harry felt a dark power flare inside his chest. Like a raging fire, it burned through his veins, leaving Harry shivering where he lay on the cold stone floor. The air crackled with dark magic and Harry could dimly hear Riddle's panicked screams as he pleaded with Harry to stop. No, this wasn't right. This wasn't real. He had to ground the power; he had to try to control it. Desperately, Harry tried to reign in the power he had just released and force it back into the ground. Images of blue lightning swirled ahead and Harry could hear the faint whispering of spirits long gone as he rode the power and tried to control it. Slowly, the Chamber of Secrets dissolved around him.  
  
Harry woke up, gasping for breath and trembled slightly at the memory of the Chamber. Harry smiled tiredly, he had done it, and he had managed to ground the power. Behind him, the door opened and Harry looked up to see Professor Phoebus walk in.  
  
"Well done!" he beamed at Harry, "I didn't expect you to do quite so well! I think we'll take a break and then continue to work on grounding the power this afternoon. I think that by tomorrow, we can maybe work on making sure the power doesn't take control in the first place."  
  
"I saw the Chamber of Secrets," whispered Harry shakily as he slowly got up from the dungeon floor, "I saw Ginny, and the Basilisk, and, most of all, I saw HIM."  
  
"Riddle?" asked Professor Phoebus with a carefully neutral look on his face.  
  
"Yes, Riddle," replied Harry as he followed Professor Phoebus out of the dungeons, "You know, seeing him again makes me wonder if he truly was evil, if he truly is evil now. I think in a way, it's our pasts that shape us, make us into the people we are now and I wonder, if Riddle hadn't had such a horrible father or if he hadn't been so bitter about his Muggle blood, would he have turned out to be the Lord Voldemort we know now. I think I'm beginning to see what I couldn't understand three, no four, years ago. We cannot just say that Lord Voldemort is an evil, psycho maniac killer and just be done with it. He's become what he is now because he never had anyone to care for him, he's never had one single person who loved and accepted him. And I wonder, that if I hadn't come to Hogwarts or if I didn't have Hermione, or Ron, or any of my other friends for that matter, if I would have become like Riddle. Is there really that much of a difference between the sixteen year old Riddle and myself?"  
  
Professor Phoebus sighed and looked Harry straight in the eye, "I would say that yes, you are right about why Riddle is what he is now. Being a witness to the millennia, I know what it feels like to be alone, and to love only oneself for fear of losing those whom you might otherwise love and how that inability to love can hurt as much as death itself. I feel that if someone had intervened early on in Riddle's life, he might have turned out differently. As it is, can you imagine it Harry? To go through life without a single friend of your own? To crave love and respect from one's peers and receive only fear and submission in return? That kind of life can lead anyone onto the path of darkness."  
  
Professor Phoebus hesitated, "I would say that Tom Riddle is a man to be pitied. However, that does not change the facts. He is a danger to the entire wizarding world and only you and Draco can ever hope of destroying him. Because of that, show him no mercy when you do meet. Mercy will only get you killed. I think that when Voldemort dies, he will be happy at least to know that you were there for him. That he could count on you to be his enemy and to be at his side during his last minutes on earth. I think he will be happy knowing that in his dying moments, that there was someone who cared about the boy he once was. So I tell you this, when you fight him, fight him with an understanding of who he is and not in the blind hatred you have fought him before. Show him what little understanding that you can give him but when the time comes, do not hold back because of pity for he shall show you none."  
  
Harry frowned in thought, "I understand. You know something else? I used to think that the world was divided into two camps: those who opposed Voldemort and those who were for him. But now I see, you can't divide the world into that. People do what they think is best for them and sometimes, their actions do not entirely agree with your own point of view. I realize now that the world is divided into shades of gray. Some are so dark that they could be called black and some so light that they can be called white. But in the end, there is no black and white, only gray. In life, there can be no one who is purely good or evil. In fact, I would go so far as to say that there is no evil. Only misconceptions led on by lies and blind hatred."  
  
Apollo's face softened, "You know, Harry, I think that you might just be right."  
  
***  
  
Harry let out a huge sigh of relief as he and Professor Phoebus staggered into the Great Hall for dinner. After the incident of the Chamber of Secrets, Professor Phoebus had changed the spell on the dungeon so that instead of bringing back images of Harry's past, it instead created new and unfamiliar situations, usually involving Voldemort. As it was, Harry had improved so much as to be able to ground the magic he had summoned perfectly almost each time his subconscious pulled it forward. Even so, Harry was acutely aware that he had only the next morning to practice since the rest of the students would be returning tomorrow and Harry would probably not get another chance to practice once term was really under way.  
  
Taking a seat between Hermione and Ron, Harry proceeded to stack his plate full of Mrs. Weasley's delicious cooking when the Great Hall fell silent. Harry looked up curiously and stared as Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle took their seats at the dining table. Immediately, Harry opened up his link and sent Draco a silent question. Almost lazily, Draco turned his head towards Harry's and for a moment their eyes met before Draco glanced casually away. Harry frowned and tried to send Draco another message but Draco had put a shield around the link and, try as he might, Harry couldn't penetrate it.  
  
As far as Harry knew, Draco hadn't been seen all day. He had been missing at breakfast and lunch and Dumbledore had even sent a house elf up to Draco's suite to see if he was still alive. Staring across the table at the blonde boy now, Harry was suddenly acutely aware that they had not talked since that incident right after he had ran away from Dumbledore's office. Harry fought down the urge to go to Draco, to shake the other boy until he was forced to recognize him. He wanted to-no, he would not think of that. After all, Harry didn't even know exactly what had happened yesterday. Looking away from Draco, Harry began to eat in silence.  
  
***  
  
(Now, a bit more of Draco's POV, finally.) Draco's thoughts were in turmoil as he tried not to stare at Harry. Dimly, he was aware that Professor Snape and Dumbledore had asked him about his day but he couldn't even remember what he had said in reply. It must have been satisfactory since neither of them pushed the issue any further. Draco's mind burned with the knowledge of what had happened yesterday and he knew, without a doubt, that he had taken it too far. This was no way for someone of his status and social position to behave, and yet Draco wanted, no needed Harry. He had no idea, no earthly idea what could have ever made him kiss Harry like that. He had never been interested in boys before, damn it! He was a Malfoy and Malfoys don't spend their time pining over other boys. They spend their time being fawned over by a bevy of beautiful young witches. He was gorgeous! The most popular guy in the entire school, why would he have any interest what so ever in a scrawny BOY with tangled black hair? Draco snarled silently in frustration. He needed to see a psychiatrist. Yeah, that was it. All the women and booze had finally gotten to him, and that was why he was acting this way.  
  
***  
  
"Hurry!" We'll be late for the Sorting Ceremony!" called Ron as Harry and Hermione followed him down the grand staircase. Quickly, Harry rushed down the main hall and froze as Draco and his Slytherin friends swerved into view.  
  
"You go on, I have to do something first," said Harry distractedly as he watched Draco through narrowed eyes.  
  
Hermione frowned but nodded unhappily, Alright Harry. If you're sure, but don't be late."  
  
Harry nodded distractedly as he closed his eyes and found the link. Carefully, he concentrated his power and sent a small burst of magic through the link. Opening his eyes, Harry watched with satisfaction as Draco's head snapped up from across the hall. Half a minute later, Draco's annoyed voice sounded through his head, "What do you want? I thought we weren't talking."  
  
"Actually, it's more like you have been avoiding me for the past couple of days," replied Harry calmly, "we need to talk, now."  
  
"Alright!" snapped Draco angrily, "you've made your point. I have been avoiding you. But why do we need to talk now of all times? Can't you see I'm busy?"  
  
Because," explained Harry patiently, "This silence is not working for me and I'm sure it hasn't been working for you either."  
  
"Actually, it has," replied Draco, "Fine then, meet me in a few minutes in the empty Charms classroom." Without waiting for Harry's reply, Draco slammed his shields down and he was thrown suddenly out of the other boy's mind.  
  
Harry shook his head with disbelief but obediently made his way up the stairs to the Charms classroom. Taking a seat on Flitwick's desk, Harry began to wait for Draco's arrival. Half a minute later, the door opened and Draco stepped in. Crossing his arms, Draco waited expectantly for Harry to begin.  
  
"What?" asked Draco with a bitter smile, "You aren't going to snog me like you did last time? I'm all yours, Harry."  
  
Harry blushed but determinedly met those stormy gray eyes. For a moment, something close to pain flickered in the cold, gray depths of them before they went blank. "No Draco," replied Harry gently, "Once is enough. And I would really like to still be able to think after I leave so I don't need a repeat performance right now."  
  
Draco blinked in surprise as if he hadn't been expecting that acknowledgement of his sexual prowess. Slowly a wicked smile bloomed on the blonde's lips. "And what if," whispered Draco intimately, "What if I do?" Lightly, Draco brushed his lips against Harry's cheek; Harry shuddered and closed his eyes.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" asked Harry breathlessly, "How did we go from hating each other to this?"  
  
Draco smiled bitterly, "It's funny isn't it? Just how thin a line there is between love and hate."  
  
"I still don't believe it," said Harry, "You are an arrogant bastard, I can't possibly be in love with you, and yet ever since I truly got to know you, I found that I couldn't possibly think of you as being evil or a bastard or even cruel. Why the masquerade, Draco? Why are you so unpleasant to everyone when you really aren't."  
  
"Don't you know?" asked Draco mysteriously, "I am cruel, and arrogant and a bastard and I don't deny that I sometimes enjoy torturing people. I've never hid who I truly am, Harry."  
  
"No," objected Harry stubbornly, "You exaggerate your dark side. Why?"  
  
"Very well, you really want to know?" asked Draco heavily, "Survival; I was raised in France with other children from the other branches of Malfoy. The Patriarchs of the family were holding me hostage until I reached the age of twelve and was sent home to come to Hogwarts. To live in that place.you cannot imagine it! It was a whole other world where murder and intrigue occurred on a daily basis."  
  
"I'm sorry Draco," whispered Harry nervously, "I didn't-I never-knew."  
  
Malfoy's eyes had a haunted look to them, "Of course you didn't, Potter. We were enemies remember? Enough of this, what do you want?"  
  
"I want to know why. Why I feel this way when I touch you," whispered Harry tentatively, "What changed to make me want you of all people and what the hell are we going to do now?"  
  
Draco smiled suddenly, "It seems simple enough, I like you and you like me, what's to stop us from being together?"  
  
Harry shook his head with disbelief, "I can't believe I'm hearing you say this. I think we both know now it can't be that simple."  
  
Draco snarled, "It could be, but being a Gryffindor, you would never accept that kind of solution. All we have to do is keep this to ourselves and we can do whatever the hell we want! You want me, Harry. I can feel it."  
  
Harry shook his head adamantly, "No, we've hid too much already. I'm not going to keep things from my friends any longer."  
  
"The world isn't all about you, Potter!" snapped Draco angrily, "I thought we've had this little conversation before. Besides, need I remind you how disastrous that could be for me?  
  
Harry was silent for a moment, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."  
  
Of course you weren't!" cut in Draco scathingly, "If you had been, we wouldn't be having this conversation in the first place!"  
  
Hermione already knows, you know," remarked Harry dryly, "But she'll keep a secret."  
  
Draco froze, "What?"  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably, "I didn't tell her, she found out because she was spying on us in my invisibility cloak that day we well."  
  
Draco buried his head in his hands, "This is not happening to me! You better make sure she does not tattle, Harry or we'll all be very, very sorry." Turning around, Draco walked out of the Charms classroom, leaving Harry alone in utter speechlessness.  
  
***  
  
By the time Harry had returned to the Great Hall, the sorting ceremony was almost finished. Silently he took a seat between Hermione and Ron and watched as the last two kids were sorted into their houses. Harry's eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table where Draco sat between Crabbe and Goyle. As if he was aware of Harry's gaze, Draco stiffened and bowed his head. Harry hurriedly looked away.  
  
"Ahem!" began Professor Dumbledore, "First a few announcements before we begin this wonderful feast. I would like everyone to welcome three new staff members this year and to tell you that Professor Hagrid has taken the year off. Now, I would like you to welcome Professor Phoebus who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year." Professor Phoebus stood and smiled rather benevolently.  
  
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," replied Professor Phoebus graciously, "It is a pleasure to be here and I hope everyone will enjoy this year as much as I surely will." Scattered applause met this remark and Harry and Hermione exchanged nervous glances.  
  
"The second new teacher we have," continued Professor Dumbledore as Professor Phoebus resumed his seat, is Professor Olympia who will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures this year." A young, dark-haired witch sitting at end of the staff table stood up and smiled shyly. From across the room, Draco's head snapped up in surprise. It couldn't be possible, could it? The new teacher was none other than Artemis herself. Draco barely heard the words Artemis was saying. What was she doing here? He had to talk to her!  
  
The sound of Dumbledore's voice yanked Draco back into reality. "Now the last addition to our staff sadly couldn't make it tonight. But, if you get a chance, please say hello to our new Gamekeeper who I suspect all of you shall get a chance to meet soon. Now, let the feast begin!"  
  
Harry jumped as he felt Hermione's elbow in his ribs. Turning around, he asked angrily, "What was that for?"  
  
"You were staring at Malfoy," whispered Hermione, " I didn't think that was wise."  
  
Harry's face softened a bit, "Oh, I'm sorry." Hermione shook her head sadly and piled food onto her plate. Harry stared at his food and pushed his plate away. He was no longer hungry.  
  
Ron leaned over, "You missed the prefect meeting! Herm and I had to fill in for you. What's wrong, Harry?"  
  
Harry shook his head, "I can't tell you right now."  
  
Ron frowned. "Don't think I haven't noticed, Harry," he whispered angrily, "I may be slow but I'm not stupid. You are going to tell me what's wrong."  
  
"Why can't you just leave me alone?" asked Harry tiredly, "I'm not in the mood for another argument."  
  
Ron slammed his fork down on the table, "Look, Harry, I've had it! I've had enough of this 'I can't tell you because you wouldn't understand' crap! I'm your best friend, if you haven't noticed, so tell me, what's wrong?"  
  
Harry sighed dejectedly; "I'll talk to you when we're some place private, alright?"  
  
"Fine; then meet me in the Common room tonight after the feast. It's usually empty the first night back," turning away from Harry; Ron resumed his meal in brooding silence. Harry picked up his own fork and began to eat but the food had no taste and all he could think of was what he was going to tell Ron. No doubt, he would have to know the gist of what happened, but would Harry be able to keep this new twist in his relationship with Malfoy secret? He'd promised Draco that he'd keep things in the box for a little while longer, but Ron was his best friend and Harry didn't know whether he'd be able to keep anything from Ron if he was really persistent. Besides, even if Harry did tell Ron about his relationship with Draco, Ron wouldn't tattle, would he? No, Harry didn't doubt that Ron could keep a secret. What he doubted was if their friendship would survive this little fiasco.  
  
"Harry, can I have a word?" asked Hermione urgently as she and Harry led the new first years up the steps, "Don't tell Ron about how you and Draco are, well, sexually attracted to each other."  
  
Harry smiled dryly, "I thought you told me it would be for the best if Ron knew everything."  
  
Hermione sighed, "I really don't think he can handle that much shock on such short notice, that's all."  
  
Harry nodded in agreement, "I think Draco would agree with you." Hermione frowned but let it go. Rounding the corner, they came to the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
  
"Alright then, first years, that portrait is the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The password is 'Honeur'," The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, revealing the portrait hole and the inside of the Gryffindor common room. The first years squealed with surprise and Harry found himself reminiscing about the night Percy had led him on the same journey with Hermione and Ron five years ago.  
  
Boys, follow me to your dorms!" called Harry over the excited chatter of the first years, "And girls, you follow Hermione to yours'." Leading the way up the steps, Harry showed the boys into their new rooms and made sure the doors were securely closed before tiredly making his way down to the common room to wait for Ron. A moment later, the portrait hole swung open and Ron clambered in.  
  
"Well?" asked Ron as he took a seat in the armchair by the fire, "Would you care to explain what's going on?"  
  
Harry sighed, "It's a long story, do you really want to hear it all tonight?"  
  
"Yes, I do," said Ron testily, "Just get to the point Potter, we don't have all night." Harry and Ron glared silently at each other for a moment before Harry finally looked down uncomfortably.  
  
"It really began this summer when Draco." Harry nervously began to tell Ron about all that had happened that summer, being careful not to mention anything about the dreams he had had or the rather interesting turn his relationship with the Slytherin had taken. Finally, he was done and they sat together, staring emptily into the now dying fire.  
  
Finally Ron asked softly, "Why didn't you tell me this before? Don't you trust me anymore?" Harry looked up, shocked.  
  
"Of course I trust you, that's why I told you." Protested Harry, "I just-"  
  
"You just didn't trust me to keep my head because it's Malfoy," laughed Ron bitterly, "You were scared of what I'd think if I knew you were friends with Malfoy. Well you were right not to trust me, Harry. I am mad and I don't like this Malfoy thing at all but you are still my friend."  
  
"I don't expect you to like it Ron," ventured Harry cautiously, "I just want you to respect that Malfoy is my friend. I just want you to accept it."  
  
Ron sighed, "Do I have a choice? I can't stand it if I lose you. No matter how much I hate Malfoy, I still cannot bring myself to hurt you!"  
  
Harry was taken back by the look of pure agony on Ron's face. He gulped; finally he asked in a timid voice, "What do we do now?"  
  
Ron sighed emptily and Harry realized with a shock just how tired his friend looked. At last, Ron spoke, "It's late, and we have classes tomorrow. Why don't we turn in for the night?"  
  
It suddenly hit Harry as he slowly sank down into his bed and drew the curtain closed that no matter how much he loved Draco, he would always depend on Ron for support and understanding. In many ways, Draco was still a complete mystery, but Ron Harry understood completely. It seemed to Harry as the dark embrace of sleep came over him that only Ron, or possibly Draco, could ever touch him on such a deep and personal level.  
  
***  
  
End  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially RikuNghts who I think was my first reviewer and definitely my most dependable supporter. Thanks for everything, and Cheers! This chapter is for you. ^_~ 


	7. The Death of a Malfoy

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters mentioned in this story so don't sue me. May contain references to Anne Bishop, Greek Mythology, Egyptian Mythology, Laurell K. Hamilton, and Anne Rice.  
  
Author's Random Ramblings: Wow, it's been awhile hasn't it? I'm sorry it took so long to post but I've got more bad news. My chapters are getting longer and, right now, they are taking a little under two weeks to write each one and a little longer than that to get it betaed so start expecting me to post every other week from now on. I don't know how long that's going to last but I think you'll be seeing this trend till Chapter 9. I can't say anything right now about Chapter 10 because I haven't written it yet. On a happier note, I think you'll be seeing more action and fighting (finally!) in this story from now on!  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke much to Harry the following morning, of which Harry was very grateful since he was still trying to think of a way to remedy the situation. Glancing over at the Slytherin table, Harry was a little worried when he noticed that Draco was missing. Turning back to his toast, he tried to shrug it off. He would see Draco soon enough in Herbology.  
  
Harry managed to stifle his scream of frustration when he realized that Draco wasn't going to show up for Herbology either. Where could he be? Harry shook his head, trying to shake off the edge of anxiety that had crept into the back of his mind and pay attention to Professor Sprout. They were going over the properties of wand wood today, and Harry found it rather hard not to fall asleep as Professor Sprout lectured on about how to deal with bowtruckles. Sneaking a glance at Ron, Harry smiled as he watched his best friend engage in a rather impassioned conversation about Quidditch with Dean Thomas. Turning his eyes back towards the front of the Greenhouse, Harry let his mind wander.  
  
***  
  
He was standing in the desert, with Draco at his side, dressed in the long flowing robes of the Bedouins. Above him, the unforgiving desert sun beat down upon them even as a dry desert wind blew across the unending dunes of sand. Harry smiled as he felt the light touch of Draco's hand on his shoulder. Eagerly, Harry turned towards his companion, but Draco wasn't there, Draco was gone. Harry felt an edge of fear creep into his mind as he ran through the desert, calling Draco's name. The sand blew into his face, trammeling him like some wild thing and pulling him, struggling, across the desert. Harry heard a scream of pain and somehow knew, without thinking that it was Draco's.  
  
Struggling against the stinging wind, he ran towards the voice until he came to the banks of a river. Harry felt a cold ball of fear settle in his stomach as he stared at the red water that roared past him. It was a river of blood. By the shore, a hooded figure dressed in black could be seen, fighting with a brilliant white unicorn until he pushed the unicorn down into the raging river. Harry's blood ran cold as the figure turned towards him and he saw the two burning red eyes that stared out at him from under that hood. Harry stumbled back from the man he now knew to be Lord Voldemort. A chill ran down his spine as he heard the soft whisper of death over the ceaseless roaring of the raging river. Pushing the fear out of his mind, Harry plunged recklessly into the blood. He had to find Draco. Draco was the lost key to this puzzle, and somehow, Harry knew that if he didn't find him, all would be lost.  
  
The river rushed over him, the current pushing him down. He opened his mouth to cry out for help and swallowed a mouthful of the sweet, metallic liquid. Memories washed over him, as the blood burned through his body, memories of the Dead. Harry felt an answering surge of power rise from within him, a power so like the power of the river. It was a dark void of death and destruction that left Harry chilled to the bone. He felt it fight with the river, forcing the river to give him up even as darkness surrounded him and he was falling, falling, falling...  
  
Blood is the Memory's River.  
  
***  
  
"Harry! Wake up, Harry!" He felt someone push urgently at his shoulder. Harry groaned as he opened his eyes and stared into Hermione's worried face.  
  
"Harry, come on!" whispered Hermione, "Class is almost over!"  
  
"Hermione?" asked Harry drowsily, "What happened?"  
  
You fell asleep," replied Hermione in a disapproving voice, "You really should have been paying attention, you know. We've got an essay on how to collect and store wand wood due next week, and no, you cannot see my notes!" It's not that," said Harry impatiently, "I mean, the dream—"  
  
Hermione glanced sharply at Harry, "I thought you said you could block the dreams! Harry, if you're having problems controlling that damned link again, you've got to go talk to Dumbledore! You cannot have it disrupting your classes!"  
  
"No, it's not that!" said Harry hastily, "It's not that kind of dream; it's different."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, "Is it one of the Voldemort dreams?"  
  
"No!" exclaimed Harry vehemently, "It's—it's different, somehow. Never mind, listen, I've got to talk to Draco, do you know where he is?"  
  
Hermione looked away uncomfortably, "I didn't want to bother you with it yet, but, well, here!" Hermione reached into her book bag and pulled out a newspaper.  
  
"You can read it on your way over to Transfiguration," said Hermione as she swung her bag over her shoulder and joined the rest of the students who were filing out of the greenhouse, "Malfoy most likely isn't here today, Harry. In fact, I don't know when, or even if, he'll be back."  
  
Harry frowned at her, puzzled by what she'd said. Snapping his book bag closed, he followed her quickly out of the greenhouse, suddenly grateful that Ron had already gone on ahead with Dean and Seamus. Carefully, Harry opened the paper to the front page and stared for a moment at the headlines. It read:  
  
ATTEMPTED ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN FOILED BY AURORS  
  
Late last night, when the guard was changed in Azkaban prison, several Death Eaters, who had not escaped during the mass revolt of the Dementors this June, attempted a daring escape plan. The revolt, lead by Lucius Malfoy, was unsuccessful. However, casualties are rumored to be high. Initial reports say as many as twenty Aurors and one hundred prisoners were killed or injured in the fight, however, the Ministry has yet to confirm these numbers. It has been confirmed, however, that Lucius Malfoy, the ringleader of the revolt was killed last night.  
  
Lucius Malfoy, once a prominent politician, had been sentenced to twenty years in prison for his part in the raid of the Ministry this summer. It was also believed that he had a role in the abduction of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, last year during the Triwizard Tournament. An attempt was made to reach his aggrieved widow and son, but their lawyers have stated that they have no statement to release at this time...  
  
The article went on for several more paragraphs, which Harry skimmed through with growing anger as Hermione watched him nervously. Finally he asked in a strangled voice, "Why didn't you show me this earlier?"  
  
"Because, what good would it have done to worry you?" asked Hermione patiently as they entered the castle, "Look, you've been way to caught up in this mystic link you have with Malfoy and your necromancy lessons with Professor Phoebus. I don't blame you for it, heaven knows you can't have another incident like the one in Diagon Alley happen again, but what about you, Harry? It's not been easy watching you push yourself to the point of exhaustion. It's not easy watching you and Ron have one of your disagreements either. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you have to stop worrying about things you can't change."  
  
Harry sighed, "I know, Hermione. But in the future don't try to hold things back from me. I need to know I that I can trust you. It's one of the few things keeping me sane through all this.  
  
***  
  
Draco shuddered as he stepped into the crematorium's front parlor. "Calm down," he told himself, as he was lead by two, stone-faced Aurors to the room that held his father's body. Behind him, Narcissa Malfoy followed, head held high and proud despite the pain and humiliation Lucius had brought on them through his rash actions.  
  
Finally, they reached a non-descript door made of bolted steel. The Aurors stepped back silently, letting Draco open it for himself. Draco's hand trembled slightly as he reached for the doorknob but his eyes were empty and his face was a cold mask of arrogance and pride when he finally flung the door open.  
  
Lucius Malfoy's body lay, covered by a thin, white sheet on a cold, stainless steel table in the center of the room. Slowly Draco approached the body until he stood beside it. Calmly, he reached for the cloth and flung it back with a swift movement of his wrist. Behind him, Draco heard his mother gasp. Almost unconsciously, he reached for her hand and held it, comfortingly.  
  
One of the Aurors spoke, "It was the Killing curse that did it. Rest assured that he suffered no pain in the end. It is the custom to...neutralize...the body of a previous Death Eater to prevent the Dark Lord from calling to them even after death. However, I have been instructed by the Minister of Magic, himself, to tell you that exceptions will be made seeing how he was a Malfoy."  
  
"No," replied Draco coldly as he pulled the sheet back up to cover Lucius' face, "He has dishonored the Malfoy name and so he does not deserve an honorable burial in the family Mausoleum. Have his body cremated and mix salt into the ashes. Spread the ashes over three separate bodies of water. The Dark Lord is cunning. Even neutralized, he can still find uses for the bodies of his dead servants. I want no chance that my father shall ever serve the Dark Lord again." The Auror bowed his head solemnly, "It shall be done as you wish." Draco nodded curtly before storming out of the room and down the hall, his mother following after his wake. A few minutes later, they were safely in the back of a limousine on their way to Malfoy Manor.  
  
"Have you heard?" asked Narcissa quietly, "Have they sent anything?" "Yes," sighed Draco as he reached into his robes and pulled out a wax sealed envelope bearing the Malfoy Coat of Arms. "I have not yet opened it."  
  
"If the Patriarchs—" "Yes, I know," cut in Draco sharply, "If that happens—I've already closed father's Gringotts account. The money has been moved to your's. I have also made arrangements for the rest of our investments to be put under your name. Go to the Grimmauld Place and wait for me there."  
  
"Draco, open it here," said Narcissa in a determined voice, "I have to know before you leave." Draco's hands trembled ever so slightly as he broke the seal and opened the envelope. A single leaf of parchment fell into Draco's lap.  
  
Carefully, Draco unfolded the letter and read, "'To: The Lord Malfoy of Malfoy Manor Greetings. Due to the tragedy of the death of the Master of this House the House of Malfoy is now without a qualified leader. It has been decided by the Patriarchs that a new leader must be chosen before the new moon. One representative should be present from each branch of the House at the Palazzo d' Malfoi on the first day of the Dark of the Moon to begin the ceremony for the coronation of a new Master of the House of Malfoy.' It is signed with the Malfoy family Coat of Arms. There is no doubt about it. It s truly from the Council of Patriarchs."  
  
Narcissa let out a frightened wail, "Do not go, I beg you! They will kill you; I know it! Your father has made many enemies within the House. They will kill you for no other reason than because you are his son!"  
  
Draco's anger flared as he turned to snap angrily at his mother, "Don't you think I know that, already? I have to go! Considering the seriousness of my father's trespasses against the family honor, it is within the right of the Patriarchs to order a full execution of our family. Be grateful that, at least this way, there is still a chance for redemption!"  
  
Narcissa laughed bitterly, "So you would choose death over life. You truly are a Malfoy, just like your father!"  
  
For a moment, shock and pain flickered in the depth of Draco's clear, gray eyes. "How dare you," he whispered, "How dare you compare me to him!"  
  
"Oh, don't think I wont dare," hissed Narcissa angrily, "Don't you understand? Life in any form is better than death. But you, you like Lucius would choose ashes and dust rather than the happiness offered to you. What chance do you think a boy like you has against the true terror of Malfoy?"  
  
"You are frightened," said Draco coolly, "You fear for my life. Do not worry, I do not choose death over life. While there is the possibility that I will be killed, I shall not give up hope for life while I still breath. The House of Malfoy is powerful, if I run from them now, sooner or later, they will catch me, and I will die."  
  
"How can you be so confident?" whispered Narcissa, "You are but a boy!"  
  
"It will be alright, trust me," said Draco determinedly, "Drop me off at Hogwarts. There is something I must see too before I leave. Make arrangements for a portkey to be sent to my room in the castle tonight."  
  
***  
  
Determinedly, Draco made his way down the many halls of Hogwarts till he reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Being a Slytherin, he had long ago worked out how the portrait hole worked. Yet, despite all his cunning, he had yet to figure out the password. Silently, Draco sent his telepathic voice over the link, calling gently to Harry. A moment later, the portrait hole opened and Harry clambered out into the hallway.  
  
"Malfoy, what—"asked Harry in a startled voice as Draco quickly dragged him into an empty storage closet.  
  
"I can't be seen with you in public!" hissed Draco urgently, "Go to the Room of Requirement, I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes."  
  
Harry just shook his head as he stared into the other boy's pale, pointed face. "Alright, said Harry abruptly, he turned to leave, "Draco, I'm sorry about your father."  
  
***  
  
Draco stared at the closed door of the storage closet, stunned by what Harry had said. Desperately, he tried to push away the memories that came flooding back to him and regain the cool composure he had managed to keep all morning. Draco let out a barely stifled scream of frustration. How could he mourn for a man who would have cheerfully turned Draco over to the Dark Lord once he reached his majority? Yet, Lucius had been a father to him. They hadn't loved each other, but there had been something between them. A form of respect and admiration that had all but disappeared in the last few years only to come back to him now when Lucius was dead and could no longer care. Draco shook his head, he couldn't think about his father now; he had to talk to Harry.  
  
***  
  
Draco stepped into the Room of Requirement and quickly closed and locked the door behind him before turning around to face Harry. Harry sat waiting for him on the only couch in the room.  
  
"So you knew," said Draco, "How did you find out?"  
  
"Draco, come here," said Harry soothingly as he got up and walked over to his friend, "It'll be alright, trust me."  
  
Something gave way in Draco and he slowly began to crumble as he stared into Harry's honest green eyes. Clumsily, he stumbled into Harry's open arms, sending both of them crashing to the floor. "What am I going to do?" sobbed Draco as he buried his head into Harry's shoulder, "God damn it, Harry! Do you know how tired I am? How tired I am of everyone's expectations of me? I can't take it anymore, I can't! My father, he was an honorable man. All I ever wanted when I was little was to be like him! Don't you see, he truly believed in the Dark Lord, truly believed that He Who Must Not Be Named would make things better in the wizarding world. His beliefs might have been wrong, but at least he believed in something! Believed in a cause enough to sacrifice his life for it. And I, what kind of person am I? I who would willingly shame my father in death just to save my own honor, what kind of selfish bastard am I?" Draco collapsed into uncontrollable sobs. Gently, Harry wrapped his arms tightly about Draco's slender form and let the other boy cry himself out. He's only human, thought Harry sadly as he led Draco to the couch. As irrational as it was, it was a comforting to know that Draco, like everyone else, could bleed. Some times, it had seemed to Harry that Draco had become so buried in his own insecurity that he did not feel love or heartbreak anymore. It relieved Harry to know that Draco, for all his maturity, was still a boy. Finally, Draco's sobs began to subside into sniffles and Harry reluctantly let him go.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry," said Draco weakly, "I didn't mean to—" "No," said Harry firmly as he stared into Draco's stormy gray eyes, "Don't be sorry. You can't go through life keeping all your emotions inside, thinking you don't need anyone's help. I'm here for you, and, I care about you a great deal. It hurts me to see you suffering. True strength comes only when you know you aren't alone, Draco."  
  
Draco smiled wryly as he wiped angrily at the tear stains on his face, "How typically Gryffindor of you. I bet you tell your friends everything that goes on in your life so they'll be there to 'support' you."  
  
"Of course not!" replied Harry in a miffed voice, he smiled suddenly, "Everyone has a secret or two, but that doesn't mean you can't have friends who will love and accept you for who you are. I don't pretend to know everything about you, but I think that nevertheless, I understand you, Draco."  
  
Draco thought about that for a moment then shook his head, "Do you realize that I didn't understand a single word you just said?"  
  
Harry grinned, "I don't think you were supposed to. Now, what was it that you needed to talk to me about?"  
  
Draco hesitated, "I'm going to Italy tonight. I don't know when I'll be back."  
  
Harry froze, "Why?"  
  
"It seems that after my father's death, someone has challenged my right to inherit his place as Master of the House of Malfoy," replied Draco through gritted teeth, "I'll be truthful with you, Harry, what I'm doing by answering that challenge is dangerous. There is a chance that I shall be killed in a duel for succession."  
  
Harry sighed, "I want to forbid you from going. I want to make you stay here with me so you wont get hurt. I need you, need to know that you're all right, but I know that I can't protect you forever. Leave if you must, but you better come back alive and unhurt."  
  
Draco smiled wanly, "Thank you for understanding."  
  
Harry returned the smile and pulled Draco gently towards him. "Be careful them," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss the blonde boy softly, "I love you." After a moment, Draco pulled back reluctantly.  
  
"Please tell Professors Olympia and Phoebus where I have gone, they will understand," said Draco as he brushed Harry's tousled hair away from his eyes.  
  
Harry frowned, "Professor Olympia? Oh, you mean the new Care of Magical Creatures professor."  
  
"Yes, her name is actually Artemis," Draco arched an eyebrow at Harry, "Artemis as in the Goddess Artemis."  
  
Harry's eyes widened in disbelief, "Shit!"  
  
Draco smiled dryly, "That was basically my reaction when she first showed up on my doorstep."  
  
"Draco, that reminds me, I had a dream about you!" said Harry urgently. Quickly, he recounted the dream he had had in Herbology. "Tell Professor Phoebus," said Draco urgently, "I have a feeling that the dream might be prophetic in some way. He will know what to do." Draco hesitated before adding, "Harry, the unicorn is my animal to call. The unicorn that you saw on the banks of the river, that was probably me."  
  
"I know," whispered Harry, "I had this feeling when I saw it, and I knew somehow that it was you. Watch your back alright?"  
  
Draco's smile was haunted, "Always."  
  
***  
  
Draco flung the window f his bedroom open and watched as his eagle owl, Ramses, soared into view, carrying a brown paper package. Draco closed his eyes and breathed in the warm night air. Overhead, a full moon shone it's light over Hogwarts. Draco shuddered, tomorrow would be the first night of the dark of the moon and the beginning of the battle for supremacy.  
  
Not that Draco was worried. He still had his trump card after all, and, as far as he knew, no one else had a clue about what he had become. Still the power of the Hunter waxes and wanes with the light of the moon, and Draco was painfully aware that he was weakest during the dark of the moon and most powerful during the full moon.  
  
Stepping away from the window, Draco watched as Ramses landed gracefully on his desk. Quickly, he untied the package from the owl's leg and gently coaxed him back into the cage. He was just about to open the package when the door burst open and Dumbledore strode in.  
  
"I'm sorry master," apologized Crabbe effusively, "We couldn't stop him!"  
  
Draco turned towards Dumbledore, one eyebrow arched questioningly. "Is there something I can help you with, Professor?" asked Draco pleasantly.  
  
"I just received word from your mother, Draco. Don't go."  
  
Draco sighed impatiently, "Don't any of you understand? I have no freaking choice but to go!"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head stubbornly, "No, the Order of the Phoenix will protect you!"  
  
"To what point?" asked Draco scathingly; "Of what importance will I be to the Order if I no longer controlled the House of Malfoy? Can you convince your people to protect me when that happens, Dumbledore?"  
  
"Draco, this is suicide," pleaded Dumbledore angrily, "You may be a member of the House of Malfoy, but even you cannot possibly fathom the brutality and ruthlessness of that family!"  
  
Draco slammed his fist into the desk. "Don't tell me useless things, old man!" he snarled furiously, "I was raised in Paris, in the Malfoy Motherhouse under the guardianship of the Council of Patriarchs. I think I understand this situation far better than you ever could!"  
  
Dumbledore paled, "You were raised there? Why?"  
  
Draco looked away, "It's not important, there is nothing you can say to change my mind now."  
  
Dumbledore nodded gravely, "Then go." He hesitated before asking, "My spies tell me that the House will not be convening at the Motherhouse. Where are you going, then?"  
  
"Italy," answered Draco softly, "The Palazzo d' Malfoi in Venice."  
  
Dumbledore hissed, "It is worse than I thought. Draco, it was your right to become the Master of the House after your father's death had Lorenzo Malfoy not challenged your right to the title. He is one of Voldemort's spies and has orders to assassinate you. You're walking into a trap; Lorenzo Malfoy is the Prince of the Palazzo d' Malfoi.  
  
"How could he hurt me?" asked Draco dismissively, "Even if he did challenge me to a title duel, the House would never accept him. He's not a pureblood, that's why he's hosting, because he, himself, cannot take the title."  
  
"He can't," replied Dumbledore evenly, "But his puppet Lineas Malfoy can. If you really must go, then take Crabbe and Goyle with you."  
  
"What I do will be my decision alone, Dumbledore. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to my bodyguards," said Draco coolly.  
  
Dumbledore sighed angrily, "Alright then, do what you want. Just remember what I've told you." Silently, Dumbledore swept out of Draco's room.  
  
"Master—," began Goyle hesitantly.  
  
"No Goyle," cut in Draco coldly, "If the two of you come with me, it'll be a sign of my own weakness that I need your help. Besides, you cannot protect me from my own family."  
  
"Yes Master," said Goyle in a subdued voice, "What orders do you have for us while you are away?"  
  
Draco hesitated then said softly, "See that no harm comes to the Slytherins while I'm gone and watch over Harry, please."  
  
"As you wish, Master," said Crabbe gently, "We shall leave you now." Draco nodded and turned his attention to the package that Ramses had brought. A moment later, the door closed softly behind him and Draco breathed a small sigh of relief.  
  
He had known he would have to confront Dumbledore before he left, but he hadn't expected it to go quite so well. The old man was stubborn and there had been no knowing what he might have done to stop him. Draco shuddered at the thought of how close he had come to cursing the man and fleeing while Dumbledore was still preoccupied.  
  
Picking up a heavy silver letter opener engraved with dragons, he carefully opened the package. The brown wrapping paper fell away to reveal a round orb of the finest black marble. Draco felt his breath hitch as he stared at the orb. He had not expected to get this of all portkeys, but then again why not? Was he not a Lord of Malfoy in his own right? The portkey was a family treasure, one keyed not to a specific place but a specific group of people. It would take the user to where ever the Court and Patriarchs of Malfoy were residing at a particular time. Only one was ever issued to a specific branch of the family and the Lord of each Manor guarded it jealously.  
  
Draco walked over to his wardrobe and carefully took out a set of formal Malfoy robes. Quickly, he changed into the heavy velvet robes, adjusting the collar self consciously and carefully scrutinizing his appearance in the mirror. Malfoy robes were of heavy velvet made in the formal medieval style. Each set was carefully embroidered in silver fleur de lis and had the Malfoy crest embossed over the heart. A heavy silver belt set with a blood red stone encircled Draco's skinny waste and the edges of the robe were trimmed with black mink fur. Draco frowned and carefully pinned up his collar with a silver broach that matched the belt down to the stone set in each. A silver signet ring went on the ring finger of his left hand and the sword Artemis had given him was belted to his side. Draco hesitated for a moment before he picked up the wand Pan had given him and slipped it into his pocket. Ready at last, he left a note to Crabbe and Goyle, reminding them to take care of Ramses before picking up the heavy portkey.  
  
***  
  
End  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, not going to list everyone right here because I want to get this Chapter up ASAP... The quote "Blood is the Memory's River" is from Anne Bishop's series the Black Jewels Trilogy; an excellent series that I'd recommend to anyone who doesn't mind a little sadism. Hope you liked the cliffhanger I left you at. *grin* I'm so evil aren't I, to leave you just hanging like that? What'll happen during Draco's duel? I honestly don't know at the moment since I haven't finished the conclusion. lol. 


	8. The Illustrious House of Malfoy

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters mentioned in this story so don't sue me. May contain references to Anne Bishop, Greek Mythology, Egyptian Mythology, Laurell K. Hamilton, and Anne Rice.  
  
Author's note: To answer some of your questions...yes, I'm still alive. Just v. busy...also sort of procrastinated on this chapter so I'm sorry it took so long. *sweat drops* Ah well, the important thing is that it's finished. This chapter takes you into the wonderful world of Malfoy. *grins evilly* It does not feature Harry, and for those of you who are pure Harry fans, I'm sorry. RikuNghts, I've been meaning to finish reading your fic...but things keep coming up. Hope to do so soon though ^_^. Next week will be kayaking in Barrier Islands so I will make no promises about next chap.  
  
Chapter 8  
  
"Master," said Lorenzo simply as Lord Voldemort entered the small sitting room and took a seat on one of the several velvet upholstered armchairs.  
  
"Is everything ready?" hissed Voldemort impatiently as he poured himself a glass of red wine.  
  
Lorenzo smiled confidently, "Do not worry. The brat is young. He will be no match for Lineas."  
  
"I've told you not to underestimate him!" snarled Voldemort angrily, his nostrils flaring slightly, "The boy is not what he seems. Remember, I want him dead!"  
  
Lorenzo shrugged and ran a hand through his long, black hair, "It shall be done, my Lord. Do not worry. I will not fail you."  
  
Voldemort rose swiftly from his chair and stalked over to where his companion was seated. Slowly, he ran his long white fingers under Lorenzo Malfoy's chin, forcing him to look up into Voldemort's glowing red eyes. A small smile of cruelty played on his pallid face as he studied his new servant.  
  
"Such passion," he hissed softly, "Such power and fury. It is a pity that a child of dark blood such as your own cannot inherit the House of Malfoy."  
  
Lorenzo trembled ever so slightly as Voldemort slowly drew his fingers back. His black eyes filled with anger and his voice shook with it as he replied, "Those born to inherit the House of Malfoy are fools. They shall bow before you again, my Lord, before this is done."  
  
Voldemort laughed, "Such passion, such anger. Be careful that you do not let it blind you, Lorenzo."  
  
***  
  
Lorenzo Malfoy glared defiantly at his reflection in the mirror and took another large swig of brandy. Angrily, he smashed the bottle into the mirror, shattering the glass into a thousand tiny pieces. Hot tears ran down his cheeks and his body shook with silent sobs. Furiously, he wiped at his eyes. Why should he care? Why did it even matter to him? After all, was he not used to the jeers? The whispers that followed him wherever he went? How he, the illegitimate bastard of Ricardo Malfoy, had inherited his father's titles and lands?"  
  
"Not a Malfoy!" the words burned through him, leaving behind a dark fury. How often had those words been uttered to him! He, the son of Luciana de Sol and Ricardo Malfoy, a child of Malfoy blood born to the daughter of a rival House. Rejected by his mother's people, he had been raised by his father as a servant, a playmate and whipping boy to his legitimate brother Lucian. Then that "Accident" had happened. The "Accident" that left Lucian dead and the Venetian Malfoys without a heir. Overnight, Lorenzo had gone from whipping boy to the privileged heir of a Malfoy Lord. A month later, on Lorenzo's sixth birthday, he had been sent, like all Malfoy heirs, to the Paris Motherhouse to be kept hostage. For six years, he lived among his father's people in France, and everywhere he went, he was marked by his inheritance. Even his black hair and golden brown skin that bore more resemblance to the coloring of Luciana's House than the blonde Norse coloring of the Malfoys' set him apart. It was a cruel trick of fate that he, more than any of the others, would inherit the family's legendary magical abilities. All Malfoys had a certain measure of earth magic, passed down through their founder, Artemis. But Lorenzo had just enough power to be considered the first Lord of the Woods in centuries. He could converse with animals, build the Black Chapels, summon the wild Magicks of the forest, and even call the wolf. Granted, he was nothing compared to such wizards as Artemis, but his abilities should have least guaranteed him some respect among the House. But then, Lucius Malfoy had come to power and he had been forced to keep his Gift secret for fear of assassination by his more powerful cousin.  
  
So Lorenzo had waited, biding his time until the opportune moment. While he waited, he began to study the Dark Arts in earnest, digging through the ancient, crumbling Archives of the Malfoy Libraries, studying the ritual magicks of the necromancers, and finally, conversing with demons. Now, with Lucius Malfoy finally dead, and his sixteen-year-old son in line to become the Master of the House of Malfoy, Lorenzo was ready to strike. By using his puppet Lineas Malfoy of Florence to destroy Draco in a duel, he would then use Lord Voldemort's power to gain control over the House of Malfoy. It was a perfect plan, and then he, Lorenzo Malfoy, would finally have his revenge.  
  
Straightening his robes self consciously, Lorenzo confidently walked down to the Great Hall to greet his visitors.  
  
***  
  
Draco arrogantly strode down the Great Hall, his eyes passing carelessly over the faces of people whispering excitedly in hushed tones. Let them talk; they were of no consequence to him. They did not have the power or the means to rule the House of Malfoy.  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed as he spotted his uncle, Lorenzo Malfoy enter the Hall. So this was the man who would usurp the power of Malfoy. Draco sneered with contempt as he examined the man's long, curling mane of black locks and tanned skin. How could someone of such obviously mixed blood be under the delusion that he could control the House of Malfoy? The Patriarchs would never allow it!  
  
"Draco!" called a voice behind him. Draco spun around and smiled with genuine pleasure as he watched his cousin, Fleur, run down the stairs towards him, her periwinkle blue, satin robes flying out behind her.  
  
"Ma cherie!" he called as she flew into his arms. Draco laughed and spun her around before gently setting her down.  
  
"Oh Draco, I was so worried when I heard what happened!" exclaimed Fleur, "Will you be alright?"  
  
"Oh quite," replied Draco with a dismissive gesture, "I didn't know that the Delacours' would also be in attendance. I'm afraid I have no proper gift for you."  
  
"You shouldn't bother," Fleur laughingly, "And we aren't the only ones here, you know. All of the representatives from the different vassal families are here to swear allegiance to the new Master." Fleur looked at him meaningfully.  
  
Draco frowned. "You mean it's that serious?" whispered Draco furtively, "What do you know?"  
  
"Not here," replied Fleur just as quietly, "somewhere private." Draco nodded curtly.  
  
Out loud he said, "Tu es beau mon amour. Tu me fais caquer. Je t'embrasse partout, mon amour. Je te bois des yeux. Come to my room, ma cherie!" Firmly, he took her by the hand and drew her in for a soft kiss. Quietly he whispered, "Good enough?"  
  
Fleur giggled, "Oh, mon amour, such sweet things you say. Come, let us go!" Gently tugging at Draco's hand, she quickly led him out of the hall and up the stairs to the private quarters of the guest wing.  
  
A minute later, they were in Draco's temporary bedroom. Quickly, Draco cast a silencing charm about the room and checked the walls for spy holes. Satisfied at last, he turned to Fleur. "Well what news do you have?" he asked impatiently as he took a seat on the bed.  
  
Fleur frowned and shook out her mane of silver blonde hair, "There are two Lords who have challenged you. Since you are Lucius' son, they will duel each other first for the honor of dueling you. In this you have an advantage. They see you as weak and will most likely focus all their energies into defeating each other. I worry about you, mon amour. Your challengers have more experience than you. These are no school children, these are experienced wizards! Your first challenger, Lineas Malfoy, is definitely the one I would worry about first. The man himself is weak, however, with the support of Lorenzo Malfoy, he will definitely win round one. Be careful of him."  
  
Draco frowned, "And who is the other challenger?"  
  
"Carlos Malfoy of Cordova," replied Fleur dismissively, "he will not win though. We must talk of Lorenzo Malfoy. You should be aware already of his designs on you. He is very cunning however, and he will not have missed the real reason why you invited me to your room. He knows of my friendship with you. He offered me money to work for him against you."  
  
Draco leaned back against the pillows. "And why didn't you accept?" he asked curiously, "You must realize that he is probably the better wizard. The odds are against me, ma cherie."  
  
Fleur snorted and lay down beside to Draco, "Why do you think? We might have our separate dalliances with others, but in the end, that doesn't change reality. I'm your betrothed. Besides, I know you, and I know you wont lose to either Lorenzo or Lineas. I trust you, Draco, against all odds, I trust you."  
  
Draco's face grew serious, "Fleur, do you love me?" Fleur looked flustered.  
  
"What are you talking about?" she asked sharply, "It is not our place to question the dictates of Fate. I like you Draco, and it is a very good match. We could be very powerful together."  
  
"But you do not love me in that way, do you?" asked Draco penetratingly, "Fleur, I love you, but I don't want to marry you either."  
  
"I could learn to love you, and don't even try to say that you aren't attracted to me. I know you are," said Fleur desperately, "Draco, stop this madness! It is not within our control to dictate Fate!"  
  
"Is it not?" asked Draco angrily, "I shall become Master Malfoy soon. Will it still be out of my power to decide what I shall do with my own life then?"  
  
"I don't know," whispered Fleur softly, "Draco, I know it might not seem like it, but I've always lived on the belief that one day, we'd be together. If we don't get married, what will I do? With out you, I am nothing."  
  
Draco smiled dryly, "I think you will have no problems, ma cherie. After all, you attracted plenty of attention during the Triwizard Tournament. I believe you even went to the Yule Ball with Roger Davies."  
  
"Draco, you know the only reason I didn't go with you was because you didn't want the other Slytherins to get suspicious," pleaded Fleur imploringly.  
  
"I'm not jealous, ma cherie," replied Draco gently, "It's just that, well, I think that we could find something better than each other; something that would make both of us happier. I'm not saying I won't be happy with you. It's just that I think we could be happier apart."  
  
Fleur's smile was sad as she gently reached up to cup Draco's face, "I think I understand now, mon amour. But regardless of what becomes of us, I shall always be your friend. On that note, I'll try to find out more about Lorenzo's plans for you."  
  
Fleur got up to leave, but Draco's voice at the door made her pause for a moment, "Je t'aime, ma cherie."  
  
***  
  
Draco sighed and breathed in the heavy night air as he stood on the bridge overlooking the Grand Canal. How he loved Venice! Paris was fashionable, London was modern, but Venice, Venice was beautiful! Draco felt a pang of regret as his thoughts wandered to Harry. How he wished the other boy were here. Behind him, a Muggle couple chattered happily as they made their way across the bridge. Draco sighed and slowly began making his way down to the Piazza San Marco.  
  
Being the pureblood wizard that he was, Draco didn't really hold with Muggle architecture. But as he slipped into the Doge's Chapel, San Marco, in the quiet of the early evening, even he had to wonder at the magnificence and splendor of it all.  
  
Rising high above him were gold tessellated walls. All around the chapel, gold sparkled and the light of a thousand candles cast their intricate shadows on the glimmering walls. Stark, somber paintings of saints stared down at him. Draco shuddered involuntarily as his eyes wandered over the paintings. Carefully, he advanced to the front of the pew till he stood just a few feet away from the altar. Draco had never understood why the Muggle artists of the Middle Ages chose to paint their subjects in such rigid and imposing styles. Then again, he never understood why anyone would worship such a depressing religion as Christianity. Yet the beauty of the place was not lost on him. Indeed, he had always made a point of visiting the chapel every time he came to Venice.  
  
There was something about the place, despite the utter sombrerity mixed with the overdone gaudiness of the chapel, which kept drawing him back to it, something utterly magical about the entire scene. As he stood there, staring up into the almond shaped eyes of the Saints, Draco realized that there were certain things that defied all human understanding. Things that even his cool Malfoy logic could never explain. This chapel, for all its utter pomposity, was one of those things, a thing that transcended time and beauty to become immortalized. He didn't have to understand it, didn't need to understand. His thoughts drifted to Harry. Harry, the hardheaded Gryffindor' Harry, the Boy Who Lived; Harry, the one person Draco could never understand. Yet there was something about Harry, just as there was something about the Doge's Chapel, which called to him. He didn't need to know how he could love a scrawny, black haired boy, only accept it as one of those inexplicable, yet utterly beautiful, things in life.  
  
***  
  
Fleur sighed and ran her brush listlessly through her already sleek and shiny silver blonde hair. Setting the brush down on the table, she stared for the umpteenth time at the silver satin, crystal encrusted Versace gown that had been made especially for tonight. Lightly, she reached out her hand and gently ran her fingers over the cool silkiness of the fabric. Again, she wondered if she really should wear the dress. After all, the one person for whom it had been made to please had already made it clear that he felt nothing but brotherly affection for her. The sensible thing to do was to sever all ties to Draco and quickly find another strong ally to protect her. Yet Fleur still found herself thinking about the British boy. She knew that he did not expect her to help him. To do so would be social suicide for her. If Draco would not blame her, then why was she so reluctant to abandon a boy who, by all common sense, would soon be killed in a battle for succession?  
  
Yet she could not think this situation through with her normally cool logic. Despite everything, she had grown to love the cool, blonde, arrogant boy. It wasn't just because of his stark beauty or elegant manners; all Malfoys had those qualities. It was because, unlike the others, Draco actually cared about her as a person and did not think of her as a mindless gold digger or pleasure slave because she was a vassal. He had understood her, listened to her problems and had been there for her when she needed him. Hell, he had been the one who had kept her hopes up during the Triwizard Tournament and not Madam Maxim who had dismissed her as worthless, after the first task.  
  
Fleur tightened her fingers around the fabric of the gown. She might not owe Draco anything as a vassal to a Lord, but she did owe Draco something even more special. She owed him her friendship, because he had been there for her when she needed it most.  
  
Gently, she removed the gown from the manikin and stepped into the bathroom to change.  
  
***  
  
Draco squared his shoulders and stiffened slightly as he came to a stop beside the huge, open doorway to the formal dining room. For the first time since he had arrived in Venice, he realized how utterly alone he really was. What allies he had when his father was still alive had all deserted him. He needed to impress tonight at the formal banquet if he had any hope of getting the House to accept him as their leader even if he did win his duel tomorrow. Tonight, right before dinner, the first duel would take place. The banquet afterwards was a chance for the rest of the House to choose sides for the primary duel. Draco was just about to go in when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around and stared uncomprehendingly into Fleur's big blue eyes.  
  
"Ma cherie—"he began quickly. Gently, Fleur hushed him.  
  
"You were supposed to pick me up at my room before dinner, my Lord," she said gently, "Come, let us go."  
  
***  
  
Lorenzo stood at the northern cardinal point of the glowing spell circle. Across from him, stood Lineas, shivering from the aura of Dark Magic that permeated the Black Chapel. Lorenzo sneered slightly. Fool, what else did he expect? Closing his eyes, Lorenzo silently summoned the dark power of the altar, calling to the lesser demons that dwelt there. The black tapers surrounding the altar flared to life and a cold wind blew through the chapel. Lorenzo opened his eyes and smiled with satisfaction as the spell circle burst into black flames. Something dark slithered out form behind the altar and landed with a dull thud on the altar steps. Lineas gasped and stumbled back. Two tendrils of black flame shot out from the circle and wrapped themselves around Lineas' body. Effectively cutting off any chance of escape. Slowly, the thing on the floor uncurled itself.  
  
Dark, black wings unfurled themselves from around a black furred body that seemed disproportionately small compared to the size of the wings. It hissed angrily and spittle hung in long tendrils from its lips. The creature was small, only the size of a cat, but it had a vaguely humanoid body. Drops of black blood dripped from numerous small wounds on its back and wings and the fur was ripped away in some areas to reveal shiny black skin. Glowing red eyes stared out of an intelligent but cruel face. Slowly, the creature slithered towards Lineas. A scared whimper escaped the man's lips and he began to struggle against the fire that held him captive.  
  
A small smile of cruelty played on Lorenzo's lips. "Get him!" he hissed. The demon pounced, catching Lineas in the chest. The circle flared brighter, and, for a moment, dark flames surrounded them. An anguished scream filled the air and a low growl rumbled through the Chapel. A moment later, the flames died and the spell circle faded, leaving Lineas lying, shaking on the floor.  
  
"Get up," ordered Lorenzo coldly as he walked over to the fallen man, wand in hand.  
  
Awkwardly, Lineas climbed to his feet. He looked up at Lorenzo and there was something dark in his light blue eyes. Something evil that wasn't there before. "Master," he gasped, "Thank you for this beautiful body."  
  
Lorenzo smiled, "Serve me faithfully, and you shall have this body for your own."  
  
***  
  
Draco took his seat at the head of the Patriarch's table and tried not to glance nervously at the nine, stony faced Lords of Malfoy that sat on the Council of Patriarchs. Even he was aware that the true power of Malfoy lay in the hands of the Patriarchs. His father had once said that the Master Malfoy may lead, but the Patriarchs ruled. In the end, all power flowed from the hands of the Patriarchs and even the Master Malfoy walked softly amongst them lest he be executed.  
  
Draco smiled as Fleur reached under the table and gently squeezed his hand. Turning his attention to the center of the room, Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Lineas and Carlos enter by a side door and take their places on the dueling floor. The dining room fell silent and, at a nod from Draco, the duel began.  
  
"Crucio!" cried Carlos, moving fast before Lineas had a chance to react. Lineas doubled over, gasping for air.  
  
"Stupefy!" Lineas managed to whisper between spasms of pain. Carlos swore and jumped back, breaking the spell he had cast upon his opponent. It was enough, and a moment later, Lineas had crawled to his feet. Darkness filled the room as black flames flared to life around him. Overhead, the great chandeliers had all but faded. Draco shivered; there was something evil about Lineas. Something inherently wrong about the man that was almost demonic in quality. Slowly, Lineas slowly raised his eyes and looked straight at Draco.  
  
"Shit," swore Draco softly.  
  
"What is it?" whispered Fleur urgently.  
  
Draco turned back to stare at the dueling floor, but Lineas had already looked away, "Nothing."  
  
Carlos twirled his wand expertly and shouted, "Imperio!" A beam of light shot from his wand and straight at the other wizard. Lineas didn't flinch. The black flames rose to become a solid wall, swallowing the curse even as it shot towards Lineas. Carlos gasped and began to back away. The darkness deepened until the room was swallowed in blackness so solid, Draco could almost slice it with a knife.  
  
"Avada Kedavra," hissed a low, masculine voice somewhere from the floor. Green light filled the room, momentarily blinding Draco and everyone else around him. The chandeliers flared back to life, revealing the triumphant figure of Lineas Malfoy standing over the body of his opponent. Slowly, Draco rose from his seat even as Lineas approached him.  
  
"Well met, my uncle," said Draco coolly as he eyed the corpse of Carlos Malfoy lying on the floor, "It seems that it shall be an honor as well as a challenge to duel against you."  
  
"I should hope so," replied Lineas smoothly, "After all, the son of Lucius Malfoy is not an opponent to be taken lightly either. However, are you sure, nephew, that you wouldn't rather step down? After all, it would be a pity if such a bright and powerful young boy was to die by accident tomorrow."  
  
Draco's smile had an edge to it now. Slowly, he began to release his shields, filling the room with his own, natural aura of power. "Do not patronize me, uncle," said Draco coldly, "I am not what you think I am."  
  
Lineas shrugged nonchalantly, "If you are certain, Draco. I'm sure you understand how it is. I would rather not have to duel someone as young as yourself. It really does go against my own honor code.'  
  
"Age is not an issue for one born to inherit the House of Malfoy," remarked Draco icily, "I am sure that you will agree that some of our greatest leaders came to power at very young ages."  
  
Draco stared defiantly at Lineas. The room fell silent as all eyes were riveted on the two wizards standing in the center of the room. Once again, Draco felt something evil rise in Lineas' eyes. It seemed to him that the evil was trying to possess him, turn him into its tool. Draco fought back, slowly pushing at the evil with his own power. A moment later, Lineas blinked and stumbled back, confused by the power Draco had released. He frowned but did not retake the steps he had fallen back.  
  
"It seems that it shall also be a challenge to duel against you," said Lineas, "I look forward to it."  
  
He turned to go, but Draco called after him, "A word of advice, don't mess with the demonic."  
  
***  
  
Lorenzo frowned as he watched the young brat returned to his seat at the Patriarch's table. So he knew, did he? Not that it mattered. After all, what could a mere boy do against the power of a demon? Still the fact that Galien had backed down did worry him. Lorenzo shook his head; he would talk to the demon later. Draco's little demonstration of power will have gained him a few allies from his father's supporters. It was Lorenzo's job to convince the House that between Lineas and Draco, Lineas was the better- qualified leader.  
  
***  
  
"Draco, what—?"gasped Fleur as Draco dragged her down the hall and into his room. "Draco, what's wrong?" she asked gently. He shook his head and quickly locked the door behind them, casting his protective charms over the room.  
  
"I want you to leave, now!" he said in a steely voice as he turned to look at her, "Ma cherie, this is no place for you anymore."  
  
"Draco what do you mean?" asked Fleur, "If I leave, then what will you do?"  
  
"That man, you don't understand, he's being possessed by a demon!" snarled Draco urgently, "You've got to get out of here! Let me deal with this Fleur, this is my problem, not yours, get out while you still can."  
  
"No," said Fleur very quietly, "You can't make me leave. I stay because I love you and I trust you to be able to beat Lineas in a duel. I'll be okay, mon amour, I wasn't chosen to be a Triwizard Champion for nothing."  
  
"This is different," pleaded Draco desperately, "You cannot fight against the demonic using conventional magic!"  
  
"Then how are you going to duel Lineas, then?" asked Fleur, "I am a vassal. Technically, he cannot hurt me. If you lose the duel, I still wont be helpless. The Council of Patriarchs has a duty to protect me. The real problem is how you are going to go up against a demon and win."  
  
"Don't worry about me," sighed Draco emptily, "I can take care of myself."  
  
"And so can I," said Fleur firmly, "Trust me, Draco., It will be all right, I promise."  
  
Draco turned away from her and leaned heavily on the bedpost, "I don't know who to trust anymore, ma cherie. I don't even know how to react anymore. So much has happened in the past few days, so much pain and suffering that I can't even keep track of it all. I am sick and tired of people underestimating me, sick and tired of everything! I need to get away when all this is finished and just rest."  
  
Fleur cupped his face in her hands, forcing Draco to meet her eyes. After a moment she stepped away. "The Ministry switches Aurors off duty every few years even if they don't want to leave. Then, after a break, they can come back," said Fleur, "They do it because, otherwise, the Aurors would just crack under all the horrible things they've seen and done. They need a break so they can digest it all and put it behind them. Those who stay on eventually crack and go crazy. I've seen it happen during my internship with the French Ministry. Their eyes just seem to fill up like a cup until something in them gives. I've seen one wizard kill himself after only three years of duty. Your eyes are like that, Draco, so full of horror and fear. You've got to get out while you still can. While there's still a part of you that's still clean, still able to want something better than this. Being a Malfoy, you've probably seen things a hundred times worse than what Aurors usually see in the field, but even you have a limit."  
  
"Draco smiled tiredly, "I don't see myself committing suicide anytime soon."  
  
"No," said Fleur bitterly, "Strong ones like you aren't the type to commit suicide. The strong ones become like empty shells that can no longer feel happiness or love. They live for nothing else but the kill, the feel of fresh blood and the smell of fear. Don't become like that, Draco, don't become a mindless killer without a conscience."  
  
"And what if," asked Draco emptily, "What if, I've already become one?"  
  
***  
  
Acknowledgements: Again, thanks to all who reviewed. Fu-Kun, this chapter is for you...after all, if you hadn't forced me to continue writing, I might still not have finished with this chapter....^_^ 


	9. Draco's Ascension

Author's Note: I know. It has been a VERY long time since the last post. The reason being that I felt my writing was lagging a bit and I thought it would be kinder to all my readers and myself if I took a break from DOB, worked on something else for a while, and then came back to it with a fresh outlook. At a certain point, I decided that I would rather drop the story for a while than continue writing and have the plot get certainly worse. Anyways, I've finished my wool gathering, spiritual quest, journey into the soul, or what ever you want to call it and I promise that updates will become more frequent as I get back into the Harry Potter writing groove.  
Chapter 9  
  
Draco slowly opened his eyes and smiled softly as Harry bent down and kissed him, hesitantly at first and then with more insistence until Draco was forced to let Harry into his mouth. For a long moment, their tongues danced with each other until Draco finally pulled back, breaking the kiss.  
  
"You came," he said simply as he kissed Harry's neck. "I miss you."  
  
"I was worried about you," gasped Harry as Draco gently caressed him, "Don't you ever sleep? I've tried to send this dream ten times already, but you were always awake."  
  
Draco smiled. "I was busy," he said as he looked around with amusement at the bedroom scene that surrounded them, "Is this your not so subtle way of telling me you'll be my lover?"  
  
Harry's eyes were cautious, "Define lover."  
  
Draco smiled and rolled over, pinning Harry's body under his own. Forcefully, he kissed him, bruising Harry's lips with his ferocity. Harry moaned as Draco pressed his groin against his. Slowly, Draco's hand slid down the length of Harry's body. Carefully unbuttoning Harry's pants and sliding his fingers inside. Harry's nails dug into Draco's skin, drawing blood. A moment later, Draco pulled back, gasping.  
  
"What do you think, mon ami?" asked Draco mischievously, "If you say yes, all this will be yours and yours alone."  
  
"No fair, Draco," whispered Harry, "How am I to decide(d) with you doing this to me?"  
  
Draco's smile widened into a real grin, "Just say yes, Harry."  
  
Harry frowned but said, "Yes."  
  
Draco studied Harry's face thoughtfully, "So why are you contacting me? I assume it wasn't just to get into my pants?"  
  
"I-I need to know the truth, Draco," stammered Harry, "What you're doing, it's dangerous, I know that. But I also need to know that, whatever you're doing, you aren't walking into a trap that you can't possibly survive. Dumbledore, he seems to think that this thing you're going to is a trap and that they're going to kill you. Tell me, Draco, what the hell is going on?"  
  
Draco sighed and rested his head against the pillow, "He's right, it is a trap. But, listen to me, mon ami, it's easier to walk into a trap with no intention of letting it work, than to stay away, not knowing what else the enemy is planning. Haven't you heard the old saying, 'Keep your friends close to you, but keep your enemies closer'? I had no choice. You already know that I'm answering a duel to succession. My enemies don't expect me to win. They want to kill me during the duel and make it look like an accident."  
  
Harry frowned, "There's more to it isn't there? Don't bother denying it, I know, otherwise Dumbledore wouldn't be so worried."  
  
Draco's temper flared, "Why don't you just trust me? I won't get killed, Harry! I know my own strengths and I know that I'm stronger than my enemies. Yeah, you're right, there's 'more' to it. Want me to tell you? The 'more' you're looking for is the fact that Voldemort is behind this whole, insane plot to murder me. Now are you happy?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Draco," whispered Harry quietly, "I didn't mean to upset you. But, I care about you, I don't want anything bad to happen is all."  
  
Draco sighed, "I know, Harry. But, if we're going to be the ones who will defeat the Dark Lord, you are going to have to trust me more. You are going to have to be able to believe I can hold my own against Voldemort's minions."  
  
Harry smiled weakly, "I know. Thanks for being truthful with me, Draco. And, please, come back soon, I really do miss you."  
  
Draco smiled, "I miss you too, mon ami."  
  
"Ah, welcome back, McNair," said Voldemort smoothly, a hideous smile playing on his thin, lipless mouth, "What news do you have?"  
  
The Death Eater bowed reverently as he entered the study. "My Lord," he said, "We have finally managed to track down one of the Olympians. The god Hades, has been found hiding out in the Parisian countryside. He seems to be unarmed and unaware of our surveillance."  
  
Voldemort's red eyes glowed with excitement, "At last! Do you know how I have waited for this moment? To finally obtain the Philosopher's Stone, and with it, the Elixir of Life?"  
  
"The quest has finally ended," said McNair blandly, "Soon, my Lord, you will have what is rightfully yours. Will you have me send the team in for the raid?"  
  
"No," said Voldemort slowly, "I shall take care of Hades myself. This mission requires finesse; it must not fail. Besides, it seems as though the team has gotten a bit a bit too complacent as of late. They need to be reminded why I am the Dark Lord again."  
  
McNair smiled slowly, "As you wish, my Lord."  
  
Draco slipped silently into the Coliseum, invisibility cloak pulled over his head. They didn't allow tourists to actually go onto the arena floor anymore. Officially, the Muggle ministry had stated that they wanted to "preserve" the site for posterity. In actuality, the Coliseum, like Stonehenge, was home to hundreds, if not thousands, of haunts and ghosts. Of course, many of the ghosts here were the run-of-the-mill wizard ones. However, there were also restless spirits here. Spirits that refused to pass through the Shadowed Veil because they believed that there was something they still had to do before moving on. Most of these ghosts were once Muggles, and none of them were friendly.  
  
Shaking himself from his mental reverie, Draco turned his attention to the scattered piles of rubble that dotted the grassy arena. Slowly, he moved through them, carefully inspecting each stone before moving on to the next until he came to a stone with the top half of a human jaw embedded into it. Despite himself, Draco shuddered. This was an ancient and powerful Gateway between the planes of light and darkness. Flavius de Malfias had made it in the time of the Emperor Hadrian, when he had been forced, as a prisoner of way, to fight in the Coliseum. In his time, Flavius had been a gladiatorial legend, using the power of a demon to win his matches. As far as Draco knew from the family archives, Flavius' pact with the demon was still valid.  
  
Demons were interesting creatures whose true home was the plane of darkness known to Muggles as Hell. The universe is divided into two planes; a plane of light and a plane of darkness. The plane of light is the realm of earth; the world that Muggles and Wizards share together. The plane of darkness is a world of wild, untamed magic and lightning-streaked skies that some call Hell. Wizards were special because they possessed elements of both realms and could manipulate them to their choosing. On one hand, their mortality made them of the plane of light, on the other, their magic made them of the plane of darkness. All magic comes from the darkness and demons are wild manifestations of the dark magic. They are unpredictable and immortal, but also play by a specific set of rules that they cannot break. Lords of the Woods and Necromancers are the only wizards who can control demons or make alliances with them. This is because demons are creatures as well as elementals of death and magic. They are not really evil, but the aura of darkness that surrounded them, that feel of untamed magic, can often be interpreted as the feel of pure evil. Demons usually stay in Hell, but at Gateways and Dark Chapels, consecrated by death sacrifice and made by Lords of the Woods or Necromancers, demons also gathered.  
  
Quickly, Draco cast a few illusion spells to fool any bystanders and tourists who might be looking his way. Dropping the Invisibility Cloak to the floor, he cast a spell circle around the Gateway. Almost immediately, the fragment of jawbone began to glow with a dark light and a swirling vortex of dark magic streaked with white lightning shot out of the grass and into the sky. "Who calls me?" boomed a deep rolling voice, "Who disturbs the peaceful sleep of Asmodeus of Rome?"  
  
"It is I," Draco Malfoy, Heir to Flavius de Malfias and the Lord of the Woods," replied Draco in a clear, determined voice, "You will obey me!"  
  
A dark chuckle filled the arena, "I, obey you? Don't make me laugh, you are only a child!"  
  
Draco frowned and drew the sword of Artemis out from under his robes. "You will obey me!" he said again in a steely voice, "Listen to me well, Asmodeus, I am the Heir of Artemis!"  
  
The light wavered for a second and then disappeared, revealing a huge, winged demon. He stared at Draco curiously, "You interest me, boy. Artemis is no fool, why did she choose you as the next Lord of the Woods?"  
  
"That is none of your business," replied Draco coolly, "The pact that you made with Flavius still holds and I will command your power!"  
  
"And just what will you have me do?" asked the demon in an angry, hissing voice.  
  
"I would have you help me defeat another demon," said Draco truthfully.  
  
"We do not fight each other, "It is one of our rules."  
  
"This demon has taken possession of a member of the Malfoy family, and it is your duty to protect the House of Malfoy, is it not?" asked Draco lightly, "Besides, I do not ask you to fight him. Only to guard my back while I do so."  
  
"Hmmmm," rumbled Asmodeus thoughtfully, "This is indeed interesting. Very well, little Master, I shall help you. What will you have me do?"  
  
Lorenzo paced restlessly, "What do you mean he's a Lord of the Woods?"  
  
"Not just a Lord of the Woods," gasped Galien, "The Lord of the Woods. I'm telling you, Master, you don't want to fight him."  
  
Lorenzo shot him a deadly glare, "We've worked too hard to give up now. Besides, don't you like your new body?"  
  
Galien shifted uncomfortably, "Master, this body is beautiful. However, it is not worth tangling with Artemis' Heir for."  
  
Lorenzo froze, "There is something else we can do."  
  
"Like what?" asked Galien curiously.  
  
A small smile of cruelty played on Lorenzo's lips, "You'll see."  
  
Fleur checked the clock and frowned. Draco was late. He was supposed to be back from Rome half an hour ago. If he were not back in time for his duel, he would automatically forfeit. Getting up from the desk, Fleur walked over to the bed where her gown for tonight lay; ready to go. The gown had been chosen specifically for her by Draco, a beautiful Armani confection of heavy, black, crushed velvet encrusted by diamonds.  
  
Carefully, she slipped into the black gown and carefully pinned up her long, blonde hair into a braided bun at the top of her head. From the dressers she got a pair of diamond earrings and a necklace to match. Pulling on a pair of soft, black, velvet gloves, she checked her appearance one last time in the mirror before turning to leave.  
  
Fleur's eyes widened in surprise as she felt a hand clamp over her mouth, stifling her scream of surprise. Desperately, she tried to fight off her attacker but to no avail. A damp cloth was swiftly pressed over her nose and, a moment later, she had passed out.  
  
Draco left the Venetian Floo station, half an hour late and a bit dirty around the edges from the soot. Draco frowned. Never was he ever going to take public transportation again! It was one thing to use the express Floo system installed in Malfoy Manor, and another altogether to use the economy class systems installed in the Floo stations. If only he were old enough to have his Apparation license!  
  
Breaking into a half run, Draco quickly hailed a gondola and headed towards the palazzo. It had been raining all day and a heavy fog hung over the canals, shielding everything from sight and making travel on the gondolas treacherous and slow. The dim shape of the palazzo had just come into view, when four dark shapes sprang out of the water and attacked the small gondola. Instantaneously, Draco's shields snapped into place, followed by another dark shield that could only have been cast by Asmodeus. The gondolier was swiftly dispatched before Draco could even reach for his wand and another shape was already plummeting towards him.  
  
"No," cautioned Asmodeus just as he was going to cast a spell, "These are lesser demons, probably servants of your Lorenzo. Let me deal with them." Draco nodded and a moment later, Asmodeus' form flickered into view. Immediately, the smaller demons chattered in fright and took to the skies. A few moments later, they were gone.  
  
"They've probably gone to report to their Master," growled Asmodeus, "There's another trap at the front door. A killing curse in a Mordian knot that even I cannot undo. You'll have to get in through the side door."  
  
Draco paled but nodded. Determinedly, he grabbed the pole and quickly steered the gondola to a small landing dock at the back of the palazzo. Furtively, he crept through a back door usually reserved for the servants. The door behind him slammed shut, causing Draco to jump in surprise. A moment latter, the lights flickered on and Lorenzo Malfoy stepped out of the shadows.  
  
Draco's cool gray eyes narrowed slightly as Lorenzo walked slowly up to him, but did not flinch when he caressed Draco's cheek. Lorenzo frowned.  
  
"You are cunning to have gotten past the demons," crooned Lorenzo gently, "Although I wouldn't have expected less of the Lord of the Woods. However, the game ends here."  
  
"Are you sure?" asked Draco with a mysterious smile, "This is a dangerous dance. I wouldn't consider it finished until one of us lies dead."  
  
"Ah, but with the right leverage, even a dangerous dance can become predictable," replied Lorenzo, "We have your fiancée. Unless you surrender, she will be killed. Even if you do not, I will not allow you out of this room."  
  
"You cannot win against me," said Draco carefully, "I am the Lord of the Woods."  
  
Lorenzo ran a finger down the line of Draco's jaw, "But I do not need to win, only delay you long enough for your duel to become forfeit."  
  
Draco closed his eyes, "I see. I'm sorry to have to do this to you. Come out Asmodeus!"  
  
Lorenzo swore and reached for his wand but Draco struck out with his hand, knocking the wand across the room. Lorenzo turned towards Draco, eyes flashing with anger, but it was already too late. Asmodeus struck with a bolt of black light that left Lorenzo unconscious. Quickly, Draco whispered a spell and ropes shot out of his wand, wrapping themselves around Lorenzo.  
  
Take care of him," said Draco, "Make sure he doesn't wake up until I get back. I've got to go!" Quickly, he sprinted up the stairs into the small servant's room connected to the dining room, stopping a moment to catch his breath before stepping into the dining room.  
  
Lineas, or rather Galien, spun around in shock and gaped as a very cool and composed looking Draco Malfoy glided onto the dueling floor, wand in hand. Turning towards the Patriarch's table, Draco said, "Please, forgive my tardiness. I was delayed."  
  
The Tribunal nodded coldly, "Continue."  
  
Draco bowed with a flourish and turned to face his opponent. A lazy, cat smile spread across his pointed face but his eyes were sharp and calculating. Galien gulped and raised his own wand. He would have to strike hard, go for a fast kill before Draco had a chance to respond.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" hissed Galien. Draco barely had enough time to jump to the side as a bolt of green light shot past him. Swiftly, he curled himself into a ball as he fell and landed gently on his feet.  
  
"Canis Lethe!" said Draco as he waved his wand in a half moon circle. At once, thick smoke formed a circle around Draco and a low growl emanated from within the smoke.  
  
Galien frowned and raised his wand. "Stupefy!" he shouted, and a bolt of light pierced the smoke, causing something to yelp in pain, something that didn't sound human.  
  
"The blood shall call to the blood," echoed Draco, "The hellhounds can hear your blood sing. Come out, demon, and release your hold on this man!" Galien was swiftly brought down to his knees by the piercing pain of exorcism. Two giant, black hellhounds leapt out of the shadows towards him, pinning Galien to the floor. The smoke cleared and a cool, composed Draco Malfoy glided towards his opponent.  
  
Draco smiled coldly at the man trembling in the vice-like grip of the hellhounds. Closing his eyes, he muttered a spell under his breath. A stone altar carved with ancient runes shimmered into view. On top of it lay a silver, sacrificial knife and bowl.  
  
"Wait!" gasped Galien just as Draco reached for the knife, "I'm not Lineas! My name is Galien, I am a demon possessing the body of this man! Please, I will release him on the condition that you bring no harm to my brothers!"  
  
"And what of yourself, demon?" asked Draco curiously, "Do you include yourself in this deal?"  
  
Galien hesitated, "I take full responsibility for what I've done. However, do not punish my brothers. The fault of the leader is not the fault of his men."  
  
Draco paused, "Very well then, I accept your terms. Release him."  
  
Lineas groaned and looked around at the black, rocky landscape that surrounded him. Where was he? Above, the sky was filled with alternating flashes of darkness and lightning. He shivered as a wave of cold, deep fear passed over him.  
  
"Where am I?" he whispered as he stumbled clumsily to his feet. Lineas screamed in pain and clutched at his chest. Shit! What was happening to him? It felt, literally, as though someone was trying to rip his heart out.  
  
"Ah, you are awake at last, I see," said a light, musical voice from behind him. Lineas spun around and stared, uncomprehendingly, at the beautiful, young woman standing before him. She had long, golden hair that fell in waves down to her waist. Her skin was milky white and her eyes were a clear blue, the color of summer skies.  
  
"Who are you?" gasped Lineas as he stumbled back from her, then a thought occurred to him, "Are you trapped here too?"  
  
She shook her head sadly, 'I am Ianthe," she replied in her lyrical voice, "And this is Hell. You were sent here when a demon took possession of your body. I've been looking after you since then."  
  
"Demon?" asked Lineas as Ianthe's words sunk in, "Oh God, Lorenzo, what have you done to me?"  
  
"Shhh!" admonished Ianthe gently, "They'll hear you."  
  
"What are you?" whispered Lineas fearfully, "What do you want with me?"  
  
"I am a Guardian," said Ianthe softly, "Once, I was a witch. When my time came, I was offered an alternative. Instead of staying in the endless circle of death and rebirth, I could remain as I am and forever guard the Gates between the planes."  
  
"Then you can send me back?" asked Lineas desperately, "You can make this right!"  
  
Ianthe shook her head sadly, "No, I can't. You aren't an unwary traveler who stumbled into this plane and so I cannot deal with you as I would normally and send you back. For better or worse, you now have a part to play in the greater destiny of the world."  
  
"But how am I supposed to get out of this place, then?" asked Lineas.  
  
"Ianthe smiled, "I think your help is already here. Look!" Lineas whirled around and stared in awe as a bolt of golden light shot down from the sky, encompassing him in a shower of gold.  
  
"Farewell, traveler," whispered Ianthe as Lineas slowly began to dissolve into the light, "Remember what you have learned."  
  
Lineas opened his eyes to harsh, blinding light and immediately squeezed them shut. A few moments later, he cautiously opened his eyes again. The room came into focus and Lineas realized that he was lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling of Lorenzo's dining room. He groaned and began to crawl slowly to his feet, but the darkness returned and the last thing he remembered before he passed out were a pair of strong hands, supporting him.  
  
Draco slowly lowered the unconscious man to the floor and turned his attention to the demon that had been in possession of him. Even Draco had to wince at the obviously poor health the demon was in. The fur on his back was dull and matted, even ripped away in some places and ribs could be easily seen, sticking out of his lean flanks. The demon limped wearily over to Lineas. After a moment, he said, "He'll be alright, but he'll need to sleep for a few hours at least." Draco nodded coolly and turned to signal to the servants hovering the door.  
  
Turning his attention back to the demon, Draco asked, "What is your name again?"  
  
"Galien," replied the demon shakily.  
  
"Well Galien," said Draco softly, "Go down to the Dark Chapel and tell your brothers to go home. They are freed from any obligations they owe still to the world of mortals." Galien nodded and quickly scampered away to do Draco's bidding.  
  
Finally, Draco turned his attention to the Council of Patriarchs and asked respectfully, "Will my Lords recognize a winner in this duel?"  
  
The Tribunal replied solemnly, "The winner is clearly Draco Malfoy. The Patriarchs will need to talk to you later, but for now, you are all dismissed."  
  
Draco nodded and turned to leave in a swirl of black robes.  
  
Lorenzo groaned and slowly opened his eyes. Gingerly, he tested his bonds but found that they were too strong to break without magic.  
  
"Finally awake?" growled a deep, rumbling voice behind him. Lorenzo stiffened and slowly craned his head back to gape, dumbfounded, at the huge demon that stood behind him.  
  
"Who are you?" gasped Lorenzo.  
  
"He is my guardian demon," replied Draco coolly as he entered the kitchen from the servant's stair.  
  
"It is over, isn't it?" asked Lorenzo emptily, "Galien surrendered."  
  
Draco hesitated, "Yes."  
  
"You have condemned me to death then," said Lorenzo bitterly.  
  
"I have condemned no one," said Draco carefully, "You condemned yourself when you chose to act against me."  
  
"I have failed the Dark Lord and betrayed my House," continued Lorenzo, heedless of Draco's words, "It is only a matter of time before I am either killed by the Patriarchs or by HIM."  
  
"I have not betrayed you to the Council," said Draco neutrally, "You are a Lord of the Woods. I have my own reasons for saving you."  
  
"If you really want to save me, then kill me!" snarled Lorenzo, "I cannot run from the Dark Lord. Sparing my life will only condemn me to a worse death."  
  
Draco froze, "You've been marked, haven't you? You bear the Dark Mark."  
  
"Yes," replied Lorenzo through gritted teeth, "What does that matter to you?"  
  
"If I could contain the Dark Mark, keep you safe from Lord Voldemort, would you follow me loyally?" asked Draco slowly, "Would you recognize me as your liege lord?"  
  
"Why are you doing this?" asked Lorenzo suspiciously.  
  
"I just told you," replied Draco patiently, "You're a Lord of the Woods, I may need you in the future."  
  
"I would serve even the Devil himself for another chance," answered Lorenzo quietly.  
  
"Swear your loyalty to me," said Draco coldly, "Swear it and you shall have your chance."  
  
Lorenzo hesitated, "I swear."  
  
"A wizard's oath," said Draco icily.  
  
"I swear my allegiance to you on my honor as a wizard," said Lorenzo, "Good enough?"  
  
"Give me your arm," said Draco, ignoring Lorenzo's question. Hesitantly, Lorenzo pushed up his sleeve and revealed the Dark Mark that had been branded into his arm. Draco hissed at the sight of it, repulsed by the abomination Voldemort had created. Slowly, Draco placed his hands over the mark and closed his eyes. Green light began to glow, illuminating Draco and Lorenzo in its unearthly glow. A moment later, he removed his hands. The mark was still there, but it had been trapped, encircled by a green vine that twirled itself around the skull.  
  
"It is finished," said Draco wearily, "There is no way to completely remove the mark. However, I have been able to seal its power. You can no longer be hurt or found by it as long as your oath to me stands. If you betray me, the seal will disappear and you will be at the mercy of Voldemort, understand?"  
  
Lorenzo nodded warily, "Yes, my Lord."  
  
"Good, then get out," said Draco coldly, "Go to England, you shall be offered sanctuary at my manor. Remember, Voldemort thinks you're dead. Let's keep it that way for now.  
  
Fleur woke to the dim glow of a hundred, flickering candles. Groaning, she tried to sit up but realized that she had been chained to a cool, marble altar. Holy shit, what had happened? Calm down, she told herself, remember your training. Slowly, she sank into the state of heightened self- awareness that she had been taught. In this state of calm, the lighted part of the room came into sharp focus. Fleur felt her pulse quicken and her breath catch as her eyes passed over the spell circle. With a feeling of dread, she lowered her eyes to the altar and barely managed to stifle a scream. She was in a Dark Chapel, chained to the surface of a Dark Altar, waiting for who knows what. An edge of panic crept into her mind. No, this was wrong, she could not panic. She was an Auror-trained spy, damn it! A moment later, she noticed the silver, sacrificial knife lying just out of reach. Fleur smiled and shifted her head to the side, concentrating her magic towards the knife. This was the tricky part. Too little magic, and the knife wouldn't move at all. Too much, and the knife would come flying towards her, probably cutting off a couple of fingers along the way. This was the problem with wandless magic.  
  
Slowly, she focused her energy, sending a slow, steady stream towards the knife. A moment later, she had her fingers twined around the hilt. The chains, although unbreakable, were loose enough for Fleur to move her arms a little, enough to be able to throw the knife and kill the bastard who had brought her here.  
  
Idly, she wondered where Draco could be. Had he returned from Rome? Had he been captured? Surely not! Fleur was wrenched from her idle musings by a sound at the door. A moment later, the door opened and a dark figure entered.  
  
Fleur lost no time and cocked her arm back, throwing the knife with all her strength towards the intruder. Cursing, he jumped to the side but it was too late. The knife hit him in the shoulder, bringing him down to his knees. Fleur swore, she only had that one shot, and, unluckily for her, it hadn't been a killing blow.  
  
"Fleur!" gasped the fallen figure, "It's me! It's Draco!"  
  
End  
  
Well, how did you like it? Grin This is one of my favorite chapters mostly because so much happens in a really short amount of time. Personally, my favorite scene is the one with Voldemort and McNair. It becomes really important next chapter, you'll see why when I finally post it. Harry will also play a bigger role next chapter as the setting shifts away from Venice and back to Hogwarts. As for Draco and his wound, who knows? I haven't really decided much about it. shrugs helplessly I guess you'll have to wait and see, huh?   
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It's been a while, but hopefully, next chapter will be up within the next two weeks.  
  
Note to Lady Lestat: Thanks for reminding me that I still had to finish this story. I had it in the back of my mind, I swear! Anyways, I was actually writing a dark fic called "Dawn Over Italy" for the Vampire Chronicles. It was mainly meant to be a story for myself since I can't post it, but if you want, I can send it to you. It's a conclusion to the story of Daniel and Armand since Rice has yet to offer one.  
  
Note on Above: If anyone else wants to read that fic, tell me and I can send it to you on email! 


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